Roses In Misery
by AnneMarie24601
Summary: Her name was Eponine, her life was cold and dark but she was unafraid. He was the marble lover of liberty. As children they had been inseperable friends, as adults they are as different as fire and ice. When they meet again on the eve of a revolution can they ignore the happiness they once knew together or are they destined to remain 'Roses in Misery'. AU for sure rated T
1. Chapter 1 - The First Meeting

**Disclaimer – I do not own Les Mis!**

_(AN – Hi, thanks for reading my story, this is an AU on Les Mis. The AU being that Eponine and Enjolras were best friends as children. Looks wise it is the movie cast, the story is mostly based on the musical but with some bits borrowed from the brick to add more depth to it. Hope you like it and please let me know what you think! I love hearing your feedback.)_

**Chapter One – The First Meeting**

_Montfermeil 1818_

Enjolras sat at the top of the stairs of his Grandparents' house, his small fingers distractedly twirling the hair on the mane of his Hobby Horse. Joséphine had given him the toy in an attempt to get him to go and play outside but he wouldn't leave the house until he had seen _Mére_.

He stretched out his cream breech clad legs that contrasted with the dark walls of the entrance hall and the mahogany of the stairs on which he sat. He placed his small feet in front of him and began to bang the heels of his shoes on the step below.

"Master Enjolras!" Joséphine's plump form came bounding onto the landing behind him.

"How is your poor _Mére _supposed to get any rest with you making all that racket?" Her rosy cheeks and smiling eyes were schooled into a carefully severe look meant to inspire fear into the heart of the young boy. But he was not easily scared.

"May I see her now Joséphine?" He was already scrambling to his feet, his hobby horse now completely forgotten. Joséphine had never quite been able to resist the young master, especially when he was excited, she waved him ahead with her hand.

"Just quickly mind and don't be exciting her" she instructed his back as he scurried down the hall.

The best room in his Grandparent's house was the sitting room which was adjacent to his mother's bedroom, the room in which his mother spent most of her time. Joséphine had said something to him once about his mother never recovering from her first childbed but Enjolras didn't really understand what it meant he just knew that his _Mére_ often stayed in her room all day. But to him she was still the most wonderful person in the whole world.

Today she was out of bed, as he entered the room she was reclining on her chaise lounge. She was wearing a pale pink morning dress with a cream shawl draped over her arms. Her beautiful golden blonde curls hung freely about her shoulders and her kindly blue eyes, the ones she had passed on to her son turned to him as he entered the room. She held her arms out to him and he ran into them.

"_Ma Mére_" he cried "are you feeling better?"

She ruffled the curls on his little head that matched her own.

"Yes indeed my little ray of sunshine" she laughed, for the boy was truly the light of her life.

"So young man, what adventures do you have planned for today?" she asked. Enjolras made himself comfortable on the chase lounge next to her.

"I shall stay with you _Mére_ and read to you as you are unwell." He was too young to see the hesitation that flashed across his mother's beautiful face.

"You sweet boy" she kissed the top of his head "but is far too fine a day to waste inside with me. You are to go outside and play and I want no buts or arguments."

Enjolras, although not yet nine, had yet to learn how not to argue when he didn't like what he was told, his mother was prepared for this.

"You may read to me this evening." She said by way of a compromise."

"Ok" he sighed as his mother gently pushed him towards the door.

"Enjolras stay away from your _Pére_ today. You know how he gets when he is away from work."

Enjolras nodded solemnly before heading out the door.

He would have avoided the man completely for he was skipping his way down the back stairs to exit through the kitchen when he remembered his hobby horse. He turned around to retrieve it and had reached the stairs to the entrance hall where the toy lay abandoned when he heard the voices of his father and grandfather from downstairs.

"Well it's about time to, after all the boy is eight years old and it is a wife's duty to produce an heir and a spare." His father was saying.

"Indeed" his grandfathers replied "but are you not worried, after all the trouble she had with young Enjolras and the babes she's lost since."

"The boy has a perfectly good Christian name and I will not encourage him and his mother by referring to him as Enjolras." His father admonished.

"She has mollycoddled that boy and I begin to worry that I have left it too late to reverse the effects. Do you know the other day he actually asked me why the street urchin's had no shoes! As if it was his place to notice such things? I blame her entirely of course she's always filling his head with ridiculous notions and encouraging him to read."

"It does the boy no harm to expand his mind Henri" his grandfather was saying.

"Not with the nonsense she is putting in there, he is a useless child. I have not worked so hard my whole life to build up my firm to have it passed on to a simpleton. And he needs a haircut, he is not a baby anymore it's been four years since we breeched him he needs to start behaving like a man."

Enjolras knew his father was pacing as he spoke.

"He will grow out of it all once he goes to school Henri" his Grandfather was saying.

"Either way she is expecting again and I cannot be cursed with such a good for nothing excuse for a son twice over."

Enjolras grabbed his hobby horse and ran from the house and from the words that stung his heart.

~X~

"Thenardier would you look at Eponine, Eponine you are the most beautiful girl in the whole of Montfermeil." Her mother placed her hands on her cheeks and Eponine beamed up at her.

"Thenardier," her mother called again "Would you come and look at Eponine's new bonnet."

Her father stood from where he had been counting the money they had made in their Inn the previous night.

"Eponine my girl that is the most beautiful bonnet I have ever seen." He said and then added quietly so that he thought only her mother could hear.

'Where did you get the money for that?'

'The brats Mum sent it to us.' Her mother whispered back "I told her the girl was sick and needed a doctor so she sent us ten francs extra."

Her father's smile widened as he kissed her mother on the cheek.

"You are brilliant" he said before turning his attention back to Eponine.

"And so my girl, where are you off to with such a fine bonnet?"

"I was going to take Azelma to play with me in the woods. Mama, can I take a picnic with me for us to have?"

"Of course my love, make sure you take it from the good stuff, don't touch the stuff we feed to the guest's it's not fit for dogs."

Shortly after Eponine had tucked a sufficient packed lunch into a basket and grabbed Azelma by the hand.

"Come along 'Zelma, let's go play"

Eponine was not ignorant to the wistful look that was passed their way by Cosette, she had liked the girl the first day she meet her and they had played for the afternoon. She had been pleased when Cosette's mother had asked if Cosette could stay with them for Azelma was only three and not really much good at games yet. Eponine looked over her shoulder thoughtfully at the girl, part of her wanted to ask her to go with them.

"Cosette, if you've got time to stand there day dreaming you can sweep the outside of the Inn as well." Her mother snapped. Making up Eponine's mind, she would not ask Cosette to come and play.

"Come along Azelma, we are going to have a picnic" she tugged her small sister by the arm and out into the beautiful summer sunshine.

~X~

Enjolras had played with his hobby horse for the good part of an hour when he found himself at the woods he most liked to play in when at Montfermeil. He didn't much like the six weeks he spent with his Grandparent's. When he was home his father spent most of his time at his Firm and he and his mother were quite happy together at home. But when they came here Father took time off work and that made his temper more foul than usual and Enjolras did his best to stay out of his way. He had learnt at a young age that his father did not care for him. He had tried so hard to make his father proud but he constantly failed. _Mére _was different. She told Enjolras everything he did was wonderful. She didn't mind when he asked her about the children he had seen with no shoes, he had meant no harm but he couldn't understand why they had no shoes when he had so many. He had asked his father first but it had made him furious and he had insisted Enjolras was not allowed to eat for three days. _"See how he likes starving because that's what he'll end up like if he doesn't get his head out of the clouds, he'll be out on the street with no food because he's no good to me."_

"Azelma, you're not doing it right" the voice of another child brought his attention back to the present. He felt slightly annoyed, the woods was his place, in all the years he had been coming to Montfermeil he had never come across another person here.

'I've been breaking the law for years you're supposed to sound cross" the voice said again.

Enjolras took a few steps forward and saw the girl who belonged to it. She looked to be about five years old although she was currently standing with her hands on her hips in mimic of someone much older, most probably her mother. She had round rosy cheeks and brown curly hair that spilled out behind her blue bonnet, the girl who was being berated was little more than a babe still in a cotton petticoat with a white cap over her mousy hair.

"I don't like this game Eponine" the smaller girl said "And I don't like being Vespasian. Why can't I be Epponina?"

"Because you're not named after her that's why" The other girl said folding her arms across her chest.

"Hey, what are you looking at?"

Enjolras jumped slightly as he realised the last remark had been directed at him. He had been cornered by a pair of bright brown and small green eyes.

"Well?" The older girl asked him again.

"Nothing" he said "I was just passing" he would have turned to leave but the older girl was approaching him.

"What's your name?' she asked.

"Enjolras"

She tilted her head to one side and regarded him.

"That's not a proper name."

"Yes it is" He was always defensive on the subject of his name.

"No its not, that's the name of the people who live in one of the big houses. I know it is so it can't be your name."

"They are my Grandparent's"

"Oh" the girl looked thoughtful for a moment "Then what is your proper name?"

"It doesn't matter because no one calls me it except my father. Everyone calls me Enjolras"

"You're very serious" she said with a frown "You know children aren't supposed to be serious right?"

"I'm not serious" he said defensively. The girl just shrugged.

"My names Eponine, pleased to meet you _Enjolras"_ she exaggerated his name and giggled then held out her hand to his. Enjolras didn't often get the chance to be around other children and found that her laughter was infectious and soon he was giggling too.

"So are you going to play with us then?" she was running towards her sister but waved her hand at him to follow. He took a few cautious steps towards her dragging his hobby horse along behind him.

"I do like your horse" she said "You can be Sabinus because we are playing Epponina and Sabinus. Azelma is supposed to be Vespasian but she's not very good at it.' Eponine rolled her eyes at her young sister who simply sucked her thumb in response.

"Who's that?" he asked.

"Oh it's the most romantic story in the whole wide world" Eponine gushed "Sabinus leads a revolution after Emperor Nero dies but he loses so his wife Epponina hides him for years pretending his dead, then they go to Rome and Vespasian catches them and they have to fight him." Eponine paused her childish babble to draw breath.

"Anyway" she continued "I'm Epponina because my mama actually named me after her. Do you want to be Sabinus?"

"Ok" Enjolras smiled

"Well go on then" she waved her hands at him "start the revolution."

~X~

They had played until the sun almost went down. Eponine decided she liked the serious boy although he was a little bit odd. But he did make a good Sabinus, much better than Azelma.

"I better be getting home" he said looking at the retreating sun "_Ma Mére_ is not well so I promised I would read to her."

"That's ok I don't like to be out at night any way, I'm scared of the dark. I'm sorry your mama is not well"

"She is often ill but she likes it when I read to her" he smiled.

Eponine was a little bit disappointed that the boy was leaving.

"Do you want to play tomorrow?"

"Ok I have to see _Ma Mére_ in the morning but I can come after"

"Excellent" Eponine grinned "I'll meet you by The Tree."

The Tree was Eponine's favourite part of the whole woods and was where they had played for most of the day. Many years before during a storm it had fallen down but as it was on a verge in the ground and its roots had been able to cling to the mud so that it now grew horizontally.

"Ok" Enjolras waved to her as he began to leave "I'll see you tomorrow"

"Don't forget Serious Boy!" she called after him but he was already running off.

"Come along Azelma" she said taking hold of the little girls hand and picking up the empty basket.

As they walked back to the Inn Eponine couldn't help but smile, she had the warm glow in her heart of a child who knew that tomorrow would be full of promise as she had a proper friend to play with.

~X~

_Paris 1832_

Enjolras head snapped up, he was supposed to be writing his speech for tomorrow but he had become completely distracted. How strange, he had not thought of Eponine for years…


	2. Chapter 2 - Expecting

_(A/N – Before I go on I would like to thank Caligirlsd99 who should basically be co-author of this story she has helped me so much and committed so many hours to going into vast details discussing the characters in Les Mis and I would like to urge you all to go and read her stories Corruption and On My Own because they are awesome…Go….Go now) _

**Chapter Two – Expecting**

_Montfermeil 1818_

It had been three weeks since they had first meet and Eponine had become used to meeting Enjolras at midday on what they had come to call their tree. Which was why she was annoyed that today he was late. She had such a good plan for today she was going to get him to play families. Mama had even let her borrow some of her china and a little broom for her game. She had gotten bored waiting for him and had marked out their 'house' with sticks but he was still not there. Frustrated she clambered up the tree too see if she could spot him coming in the distance. When there was no sign of his golden curly head she rolled back onto the branch and stared up at the sky watching the clouds float past.

Ten minutes more passed before Enjolras finally appeared. As soon as she heard his footsteps on the ground she stood up on her branch and put her hands on her hips the way Mama did when she was cross.

"I thought you weren't coming" she scolded "If I'd have known you were going to take so long I would have brought Azelma."

"Sorry Eponine" he began but she didn't give him a chance to finish.

"I've been waiting for ages all by myself what if a, a" she tried to think of something suitably dramatic but in the end settled with "I don't know but something could have happened and then I wouldn't have been able to play with you anymore and then you would have been sorry." She folded her arms across her chest and pouted as she marched across the branch towards him.

"Eponine stop walking across the branch you're going to fall"

"I am not" she threw her arms out beside her "I can climb a tree ten times better than you and I can even do a cart wheel on the branch"

"Eponine don't."

But the temptation was too great. She would not have a boy doubting her ability to climb the tree. She placed her hands out in front her and threw her weight forward, she was already smiling proudly as her legs swung above her head but it was a fleeting triumph. They came down faster than she expected and were further in front of her than she had anticipated she was losing her balance and tumbling down from the tree. She plummeted to the ground. It was only a few feet but she landed flat on her back snatching the air out of her lunges, she gasped desperately trying to fill them. She felt a pair of arms slide round her back and help her to sit up.

"Eponine are you ok?" Enjolras was looking at her with concerned blue eyes his little brow creased into a worried frown. If she had been there by herself she would have cried and run home but when she looked at her friend she couldn't help but laugh.

"I told you I could do it." She declared proudly.

"You fell off it doesn't count"

"Yes it does I would like to see you try to do it" she challenged.

"No, I might fall off too"

"Baby" she countered, it did the trick he was already scrambling up the tree and stood at the end of the branch but he hesitated.

"Do you even know how to cartwheel?" she asked.

"I've never tried it before" he said putting his arms out in preparation. Eponine instantly regretted daring him.

"No don't Enjolras, you really will hurt yourself"

"You shouldn't have called me a baby" he stated. Eponine drew in a sharp breath as he launched himself forwarded. He faltered slightly as he legs went over his head but he managed to land, although somewhat unceremoniously his legs either side of the branch his hands in front of him, he looked up at her and smiled his blonde curls falling forwards over his face.

"Told you" he laughed.

Eponine was already climbing the tree beside him punching him playfully in the arm.

"You scared me half to death. I thought you would break your head"

"I thought you had broken yours"

Eponine grinned as she jumped down from the branch.

"I always land on my feet"

"And I always do what I decide I'm going to" he laughed, doing a final cartwheel before joining her on the ground.

"Sorry I was late, _Mére _was really very ill this morning and Joséphine wouldn't allow me to see her for ages"

"Is your _Mére_ always ill?" She asked.

"Normally, but she is worse at the moment Joséphine says it's because she is expecting something. I suppose it's making her nervous."

Eponine had been plucking daisies from the ground to make a chain but she stopped immediately and stared straight at him, she looked at his serious face and giggled.

"You are the funniest boy I ever met" she laughed.

"What is funny about it" he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Your _Mére_ isn't expecting something she's just _expecting!_" she rolled her eyes to emphasise the word but he just looked blankly back at her, she sighed.

"I bet your _Mére_ is more ill in the mornings than in the evenings."

"Yes, but" he frowned more as Eponine laughed harder.

"Your mama is having a baby silly." She raised her eye brows at him and saw the news slowly sink into his young face.

"My mama was exactly the same when she was expecting Azelma. That's what they call it, expecting. It means they are going to have a baby. Oh but don't worry." She added the last bit because she could see the concern written all across his face.

"But I never thought _Mére _would have another baby. I just thought it would always be me and her" he had sat down on the floor with his back against the tree. Eponine felt bad for telling him because he wasn't looking happy like she had expected. She sat next to him and put her arm around his shoulders.

"I know I moan about Azelma but that's only because I love her. Honestly having a little brother or sister would be the most fun."

"But it wouldn't be just me and _Mére_ anymore."

"No, it would be better. Ok not straight away because babies aren't much fun but once they get older it's like always having a friend to play with."

The corner of his mouth twitched up.

"It would be fun to have someone to play with."

"And you would be the older one so they would have to do what you say" she smiled encouragingly at him and he laughed.

"I wonder why _Mére_ didn't tell me."

"Probably because she knows what a silly serious thing that you are knew you would be worried. But you should go and tell her that you know."

He was on his feet straight grabbing her by the hand and pulling her up.

"Come on, you can come with me and meet _Mére_. I've told her all about you."

Eponine flushed with excitement as they ran through the forest hand in hand.

Enjolras still had hold of her hand when they entered through the kitchen of one of the beautiful big houses that Eponine liked to admire. In the corner of the kitchen a plump woman sat stitching she looked up as they entered.

"Enjolras I thought I had gotten rid of you for the afternoon" her words were harsh but they were spoken with a fond smile.

"Joséphine I've brought my friend to meet _Mére_" he pulled Eponine's hand so she was standing next to him she smiled nervously up at the woman. Joséphine was kindly and smiled back at her.

"Well you're the first friend Enjolras has ever brought home. What do you say I bake you both some scones whilst you talk with the mistress?"

"I would say that would be very kind."

Joséphine laughed and waved them towards the door.

"Your _Pére_ is in the library" she said as they left.

"Why did she tell you that?" Eponine asked.

"So that we don't go there" he replied. This seemed very strange to Eponine, who could not understand why anyone would not want to see their Papa. Hers was always counting his money and he didn't really like it if Eponine interrupted him when he was drinking with their guests in the evening but the rest of the time he was fun and always made her laugh.

Footsteps approached from a room that came off the corridor they were walking down. Enjolras pulled her faster and they scurried into a doorway further down the hall. He held his finger to his lips warning her to be quiet as the footsteps echoed towards them.

"Marcelin, was that you?"

Eponine couldn't help herself, she giggled, no wonder he didn't want to be called by his real name. Her laugh caused the steps to approach them. Eponine was surprised to find that Enjolras moved in front of her shielding her from whoever was approaching.

"_Pére_" His voice sounded cold and much older than his eight years.

"Marcelin, what are you doing scurrying about the house like you were a little rat." A man's voice said. Eponine, whose parents never had anything but praise for their children, although they were rude to Cosette but that was different, balled her fists at her side angry on her friend's behalf.

"I've come to see _Mére_."

Eponine risked peeping over Enjolras shoulder. The man he was talking to was tall but portly and his face had the same reddened complexion of the men who came to her Papa's inn every evening. His hair and eyes were dark, the lines of his face were severe the only feature of note was the thick moustache that shadowed his top lip.

"You're not to see your mother" the man snapped "Not today, not at all do you understand. You're the reason it's taken her so long to fall with child. I don't want everything ruined by you again?"

Enjolras said nothing but Eponine was outraged she pushed past him so she was standing at his side.

"You can't tell him not to see his own Mother!" She cried indignantly her little face was flushed with anger. Enjolras was trying to push her back behind him.

"Who is this Marcelin? You have a lot to say for yourself young lady."

"I'm Eponine and I've come to meet my friends Mother"

"This is who you are friends with Marcelin? You are a terrible boy. You've been nothing but a thorn in my side since the day you were born. Well you can tell your friend to leave and as for you, I have already told you that you shall not be permitted into your mother's company for the foreseeable future."

Eponine looked at Enjolras who was looking down at his shoes still holding onto her hand, she squeezed it reassuringly as a quiet word passed his lips.

"No"

"What did you say boy?"

"No, I won't tell my friend to go. No I will not, not see _Mére._"

"Don't argue with me boy" his father screeched.

"Henri!"

For a moment Eponine thought the lady who had spoken the word was an angel for she was simply the most beautiful thing Eponine had ever seen. She was wearing a white nightgown although it was the middle of the day and her hair flowed behind her as she glided towards them. On second glance Eponine realised that the lady was Enjolras' mother for there was no mistaking their similarity the only differences in the faces was that hers was that of a lady and Enjolras was that of a small boy. She was at their side her hands on Enjolras' shoulders.

"We have discussed you talking to Enjolras in this manner" she said in a hissed whisper.

"The boy is a fool just like his mother" His father hissed back at her.

"You can control every other area of my life but you will not stop me from seeing my son" she turned on her heel guiding Enjolras and Eponine in front of her. As they left she heard Enjolras father mutter under his breath.

"More the fool I am for marrying for looks to keep my father happy and getting lumbered with a wife more useless than the child she bore me."

Eponine looked up into the beautiful woman's face and saw her wince at the words but she quickly positioned her features into a plain mask as she led them into a beautiful little sitting room with cream walls and a chase lounge covered in little pink roses.

Once the door was closed the lady turned to Enjolras.

"Don't listen to any of the things he says to you." She placed her hand under her small sons chin and lifted his face to look into hers.

"You are not useless or terrible. You are brilliant and kind and are a wonderful addition to this world. Your destined to make it better with your presence do you understand Enjolras."

He nodded at her and she smiled before turning her attention to Eponine.

"Now this must be the famous Eponine I have heard so much about." Eponine felt awkward in the presence of such a beautiful lady and curtsied which made the woman laugh.

"Enjolras did not tell me you were such a beautiful little girl" Eponine blushed at the compliment.

"_Mére_ are you having a baby?" Enjolras asked. His mother reclined on her seat and waved him to come and sit up next to her.

"_Oui_" she said simply looking closely into his face. Eponine watched as Enjolras stared seriously at his mother for a moment.

"Eponine has a baby sister"

"Do you Eponine?" the beautiful lady asked her.

"Yes, Azelma, but she's not really a baby she's nearly three."

"What a beautiful name. Enjolras do you think you should like to have your own little sister?"

Enjolras considered for a moment.

"I think I should like a brother more, if that's ok."

His mother laughed and ruffled his hair.

"I'm afraid we shall just have to wait and see what we get, these things are beyond our control"

Eponine would always remember one of the loveliest afternoons of her life as the one she spent in the beautiful cream sitting room with the angel lady and her best friend eating fresh scones. Enjolras mother read them a story 'The Elves and the Shoemaker'. Eponine thought it was a strange kind of story but Enjolras said it was his favourite. He explained why when he walked home with her later that afternoon.

"_Mére _says that it has an important lesson in it, to always help others if we can. _Mére _is always helping people when we are at home. But she has to do it secretly otherwise _Pére_ would be cross but he is at work a lot so he doesn't know about her visits to the poor. Sometimes she lets me go with her. She says that it is our duty to help those who are less fortunate than us."

"Enjolras, I think your _Mére_ might truly be an Angel or maybe a princess."

"I think she is an Angel" he smiled.

"But your _Pére _is beastly."

Enjolras just nodded at her then changed the subject.

"Race you to the end of the road" he shouted already running ahead of her.

"Cheat!" she cried but she was already chasing down the road after him.

~X~

For the first time in his life Enjolras was disappointed to be leaving Montfermeil. He was standing at the Well in the woods with Eponine throwing stones and counting how long it was before they heard them splash down to the bottom. She had been more quiet than usual that afternoon.

"You're really leaving tomorrow" she finally said broaching the subject that each of them had wanted to ignore.

"Yes, but I will be back next year" he reassured her.

"You will have forgotten all about me" she pouted.

"No I won't Eponine you are my best friend" they had decided they were best friends four weeks into his stay.

"You might get a new best friend before next summer"

"I won't" he promised.

"Swear it" she challenged him.

"I swear" he declared. She turned her back to him and began searching the stones on the floor finding one that apparently meet her requirements she stood back up and turned round to face him.

"Give me your hand."

He held it out to her and she took the sharp corner of the stone and pressed it into his thumb until a little prick of blood appeared.

"Don't move" she cautioned, going slightly cross eyed as she concentrated on pushing the stone into her own thumb. When the pinprick of blood appeared she grabbed his hand and pressed it to hers, the two drops of blood linked together and wound its way down their thumbs leaving a crimson line behind it.

"There" she declared "Now we are blood brother and sister so you can never forget about me because we are joined forever." She looked proud of herself as she smiled at him.

The sun was setting and Enjolras knew she would want to leave because she was scared of being alone in the dark.

"We always come on the first Saturday of July" he told her.

"Then I shall meet you at our tree on the first Saturday of next July and you can take me to see your new baby."

Enjolras smiled and held out his hand to her.

"Until next July" he said.

"Until next July Serious Boy."

They parted and Enjolras left with a heart that was heavy but full of the hope of a child who assumed that everything would always be the way he planned. A child who had no idea that dark clouds had already gathered on his horizon and the storm that would change the entire course of his life had already begun.


	3. Chapter 3 - Innocence and Guilt

_**(A/N - Thank you to everyone who has written such kind reviews! And thank you to those who asked for updates, I did this as quickly as I could but it wasn't an easy chapter to write I had to re-do it about five times. Let me know what you think)**_

**Chapter Three – Innocence and Guilt**

_Montfermeil 1819_

Enjolras sat on the tree and waited staring down at his feet. Had it only been a year since he had been here last it felt much longer. He was only nine but he no longer felt like a child he spent most of his time trying to make sense of what had happened in the past few months. Like the day he had realised he hated _Pére._

"_You can't keep punishing me for her mistakes" Mére had shouted drawing Enjolras attention to the slightly open door the dining room._

"_You are not fit to speak her name" Pére had bellowed his face turning purple._

"_I have done everything you asked of me" Mére's eyes were filling with tears and she held out her hands towards her husband in a pitiful attempt to get him to come to her. But he turned his back and she placed her hand on her swollen stomach._

"_Why can't you love me?" she whispered._

"_Because you're pathetic"_

"_For loving you, for trying my hardest to do everything I could to keep you happy." Mére hesitated slightly but then continued "She didn't even want you!"_

_Pére had crossed the room in three strides and struck her across the face catching her off guard and sending her sprawling across the floor. Enjolras had run into the room as fast as his legs would carry him pumping his little fists into his father's chest but a child stood no chance against a grown man and his father simply pushed him aside as he walked out of the room. Enjolras had gone to his mother's side but she didn't seem to notice him. He called her name but she didn't listen she got up and left the room without a second glance leaving him standing alone._

He had known almost instantly that he would never forgive _Pére_ but it was _Mére_ walking off that had hurt his little heart the most. In the months that had passed he had spent too much time wondering what _Mére _would have said if she had chance to explain it all to him. But he had learnt in the past year was that life was cruel and the future was not guaranteed. She had gone to bed straight after the incident with _Pére_. Enjolras closed his eyes trying to stop the memories from flooding through his mind.

_Screaming, that was what had woken him from his sleep. Horrific screaming such as he had never heard before, it had been Mére he had known it almost instantly. He had run to her room but the door was locked. Joséphine had been arguing with Pére._

"_Please Master, you need to get a doctor the baby is coming and it's far too soon. There shouldn't be this much blood"_

"_I will not waste my energy fetching a doctor for a useless woman who can't even keep a child in her belly." Enjolras heard his father's footsteps departing._

_Joséphine started as she rounded the corner and saw him standing there, she hesitated for a moment looking into his face but she nodded to herself seeming to have made up her mind about something._

"_Enjolras, your Mére is very unwell. Do you know where Doctor Beaufort's house is?"_

_He nodded._

"_You must run there as fast as you can, tell him that the baby is coming and nothing can stop it. Tell him to come quickly, don't take no for an answer."_

_Enjolras hadn't wasted a moment he had run out still in his night clothes. He had run all the way to Doctor Beaufort's house by the time he arrived he was panting for breath. He had slammed his fists against the door and stammered Joséphine's instructions at the surprised doctor as soon as it was opened. The Doctor was old and struggled to keep up with Enjolras pace which had frustrated the small boy. He pulled the doctor by the hand but it was all to no avail, his mother and the baby were dead by the time he got back._

His eyes were stinging behind their lids, he felt the familiar prick of threatened tears and took a deep breath, closing off his heart from the pain and stopping the tears. He hadn't cried, not when it happened and not since.

"_Big boys don't cry"_

That's what _Mére_ had told him once and he would make his mother proud. That was the one thing he was most determined about, if it took him his whole life he would find a way to make _Mére_ proud.

He had slowly been closing off every emotion. It was the only way he could cope with the pain and the crushing guilt.

"_If you hadn't come running into the room she would never have got so upset and none of this would have happened."_

He hated his _Pére_ but he knew he was right it was all his fault she had looked so upset as she had walked away from him that day. Joséphine had told him _Mére _was watching him from heaven and he would show her, one way or another, how sorry he was that he had upset her. He missed Joséphine almost as much as he missed _Mére _but she had been sent away. _Pére_ had declared that he could no longer bear to look upon the face of his son and would send him to school but when it came to it he could not part with him. Enjolras knew that this was not because of any kind of affection on his father's part but because although he took no real interest in him he needed to keep a close control on his life and so tutors had been brought in. Enjolras threw himself into learning and found a solace in his studies that he had not expected, it had become the only thing that got him through the dark days, that and the thought of Montfermeil and his friend Eponine.

She was running towards him now with a smile on her face which disappeared the moment she took in his black mourning suit. He jumped down from the branch to meet her. She ran faster and threw her arms around him. For the first time since his mother's death he felt relief.

~X~

"I want to come with you Ponine" Azelma was standing with her arms on her hips. Both girls had learned to mimic their mother.

"You can't come"

"You just don't want to share your friend. It's no fair you haven't played with me for two whole weeks since he arrived."

"Play with Cosette" Eponine was tying her bonnet strings under her chin and preparing to leave.

"Eww, what would I want to play with her for. Even if we were allowed, which you know we aren't Mama says so. I want to come with you."

"Well you can't today and don't ask me why because I haven't got time to explain. You can come another day."

"Mama" Azelma cried childishly.

Eponine ran, she knew Mama would make her take Azelma with her and she couldn't, not at the moment.

Once she was a safe distance from the inn she slowed down to a walk and looked at the pink mark on her thumb. The cut she had used to become Enjolras' blood sister last year had become infected. It had swollen up and been very painful and when it had finally gone down left its mark on her young skin. She rubbed it as she thought about the last two weeks. Enjolras had been serious last summer but he was even more so now, almost not like a child anymore she did her best to encourage him to play like they had last year. It was like he was learning to be a child again and she couldn't have Azelma coming along just when she was making progress.

She saw him waiting for her sitting on the branch of tree his legs swinging his eyes had a faraway closed off look the one that Eponine hated, she had to get him out of it she ran towards him reached up and grabbed his leg.

"Your it" she laughed running off, glancing over her shoulder to make sure he had taken her bate. He smiled, looking nine again instead of ninety and jumped down chasing after her. Eponine knew he was much faster than her so she had to use her knowledge of the woods to her advantage. She darted in and out of the trees trying to lose him, laughing as he nearly caught up with her and she spun round and ran off in a different direction. She could hear him laughing which spurred her on.

He caught up with her his hand reaching out to tap her shoulder, she tried to get her feet to go faster but tripped over them, he tried to grab her to stop her from falling which resulted in both of them tumbling to the floor much to Eponine's amusement. She rolled onto her back laughing till there were tears streaming down her face. He was laughing as well, the slightly worried frown he seemed to permanently wear was absent entirely from his face.

She rolled up onto her knees and began plucking the grass blades from the ground. She remembered something she had heard Mama and Papa talking about the previous night.

"Your Grandparents have new neighbours from England"

"Yes they moved in last week." He copied her plucking the grass blades at his feet.

"I think I might move to England when I am a lady."

"Why would you want to do that?" He sounded genuinely puzzled.

"So I can marry a prince silly" she laughed.

He just looked at her "Why would you want to marry a prince?"

"So I can be a Princess!" She raised her eyebrows at him surely he had known the answer was obvious.

"You do know that the English king is mad" He raised his eyebrow at her, she responded by throwing her plucked blades of grass at him.

"What would I care so long as I was a princess? If I can't marry a Prince" she tapped the side of her cheek as she considered the thought seriously "Then I will marry a Bourgeois naturally, a very rich one so I can have lovely things or anyone with a lovely big house. Or maybe I will marry you, but only if I really can't find anyone else." She expected him to laugh but the serious expression came back across his face.

"I'll never get married"

"What not even to me?" she cried.

"No, I never want to marry anyone."

Eponine was genuinely shocked, why would anyone not want to get married "But if you don't get married, you will never have a family or a house or a wife. You will never even get to kiss anyone."

"I don't want to kiss anyone, why would anybody?"

"Because it's special and romantic and Mama's novels she reads say that it is the most magical thing and you knees go weak and your head spins and it makes the whole world lovely. Everyone wants to be kissed." She cried with childish enthusiasm.

"Well I don't, I don't want to get married or get kissed" he said getting to his feet.

"You really are the most serious boy I ever met."

"I don't like it when you call me that and I don't want to play anymore" he said turning to leave.

Eponine bit her lip as she watched him walking away, indecision was filling her mind but her young romantic heart got the better of her she grabbed his hand so that he turned around she reached up and pressed a quick kiss onto his lips before turning around and running all the way home. Her cheeks burned bright red but at least Enjolras wouldn't go his whole life never kissing anyone that would have been too terrible.

~X~

_Paris 1832_

Montparnasse was passed out in the corner. Eponine had known exactly what he wanted the moment he came in and she had been quick witted enough to pour him several glasses on Papa's strongest whiskey. Thankfully it had done the trick and he was too drunk to function before he could attempt to make any advances. She pressed her fingertips to her lips. It had been a long time since she had thought about it properly but she was always grateful for her first kiss with Enjolras. It had been pure chaste and innocent everything that her life now was not…


	4. Chapter 4 - Detectives

_**(A/N – Well done to Lesmisfan248 who noticed my deliberate mistake **Shifty Eyes** just kidding, thank you for pointing it out! Noelle – this is not the end, I have so much more planned =) hope you all continue to enjoy it! As always let me know what you think I love reading your reviews)**_

**Chapter Four – Detectives**

_Montfermeil Autumn 1820_

The first weeks after Enjolras left were always boring for Eponine but she was not one inclined to be dreary or to dwell on things that made her upset so by the time October had come she had recovered sufficiently well enough to continue in her usual routine.

Today though, something was different like the atmosphere of her home had shifted. Cosette had been sent out to fetch water from the Well and her Papa didn't seem to be himself. He had been counting his money, a past time which usually made him intensely happy but today it seemed to have frustrated him.

"Cosette" he cried, as he usually did when in a fail temper, Eponine knew that if Cosette had been there she would have been in trouble Papa would probably have hit her or got Mama too. Something in Eponine told her that such treatment was not exactly right and she was often struck with the reoccurring thought that Cosette was a child like herself but with no one to encourage such thoughts and only her parents to set her an example she dismissed them and mimicked her parents in Cosette's mistreatment.

"Cosette" her father cried again rising from his chair.

"She's not here Papa" Azelma told him innocently brushing the hair on her dolly.

"What" her father screeched bending over so he was in Azelma's face. Azelma looked up shocked her little eyes widening, father had never before had a cross word for either of them, Azelma's eyes began to fill with tears.

Eponine always hated to see her sister cry so she went over and knelt before her brushing the tears away from her face. "Sush Azelma its ok, Papa didn't mean to shout."

"Yes I did" he snarled causing Eponine to now look up at him in shock, what had gotten into papa?

Mama chose this moment to waddle into the room, her stomach large with the new baby that was growing inside it. She had been incredibly ill, worse than with the girls before she had said. Her hands and face were swollen up and she had declared bitterly that it must be a boy because everyone knows boys rob you of your beauty. Father strode across the room to her and whispered something that Eponine couldn't hear. Mama paled slightly and nodded at him.

"I will write to the brat's mother today. Tell her Cosette is truly ill this time and that a doctor must be sent for with no time to lose."

"Make sure that you do" Papa went back to his coins and began to recount them.

Mama turned her face to Eponine and Azelma "Girls, do us all a favour and get yourselves out of the house."

"But Mama it looks as if it might rain" Eponine protested.

"Just get out!" her mother cried. Eponine didn't need to be told again she grabbed Azelma by the hand not even stopping to get their bonnets.

"Mama is very cross at the moment." Azelma said as soon as they were outside.

"And you would be to if you had a child growing inside your belly" Eponine cried with a nod the way Mama did whenever Papa said something similar to her although not in such nice terms.

"If Mama didn't want another baby why is she having one?" Azelma was frowning deeply.

"Because silly, you don't get a choice in such things when you are married you just have to have a baby if your husband says so"

"What?" Azelma looked really confused.

"I don't know how it works I just know that I heard Mama say it was all Papa's fault that she was having another 'god forsaken babe'" Eponine tried to mimic her Mama's voice as she said the last part.

"I think I should like to have a baby" Azelma decided pulling the front of her dress forwards and rubbing her hand on the fabric.

"Bet you won't say that when the new babe comes and its crying and pooping. It will be smelly to. You were awfully smelly when you were a baby!" Eponine laughed.

Azelma pouted at the injustice "I was not"

"How do you know you were just a baby, a smelly baby!"

Azelma launched herself at her sister but Eponine was older and faster and ran off leaving Azelma in her wake.

She would have continued running longer but the sound of a girl's laughter caught her attention. She stopped abruptly causing Azelma to run into the back of her declaring that she had won but Eponine held her finger to her lips to tell her to be quiet and waved her forwards. As they rounded the corner Eponine saw that as she suspected the laughter was coming from Cosette who was talking to a boy with his back turned to her. She knew who the boy was and she instantly felt a hot flush of envy fill her body. Cosette was laughing with her friend!

"Cosette!" she cried "What are you doing out here still, don't you know that Papa is looking everywhere for you, you're in awful bad trouble when you get home!"

"Eponine?" Enjolras had turned round to face her, he looked older than he had in the summer. His father must have finally won the battle about his hair because his golden curls had been cropped short to his head.

Eponine's entire body tingled with outrage that Cosette would have the audacity to talk to _her_ friend and that Enjolras was talking to Cosette instead of coming to find her, why was he even here? It wasn't summer.

Eponine marched over to Cosette and grabbed the girl by the ear. "You're coming with me Cosette. Azelma got shouted at because you weren't home and you are an ungratefully little brat, Mama says so"

Cosette was shaking from head to toe, Eponine knew it was because although Eponine had often teased her she had never truly been cross with the girl before, she had even showed her as much compassion as she dared when Mama and Papa weren't looking. Not today though, she twisted the girl's ear the way she had seen her Mama twist it.

"Eponine stop it!" Enjolras sounded not like a child at all, in fact he sounded so much like an adult who was in charge of the situation that Eponine let go of Cosette in spite of herself. Cosette jumped back the moment she was released and cowered slightly.

"Hey, don't shout at Eponine" Azelma ran to her sisters side "We both got into trouble with Papa because of Cosette."

Cosette was shaking her head at the two of them, knowing that if the girls told their mother about this Madame Thenardier would get out the belt that Cosette hated.

"Eponine I would have thought so much better of you" Enjolras said looking at her with slight disbelief.

Eponine cursed herself as her eyes began to fill up with tears, great first Papa was cross with her and now her best friend hated her. The last thing she wanted was Enjolras to see her cry.

"Azelma take Cosette home" she sniffed "Don't tell Mama anything until I get home ok."

"Where are you going" Azelma shouted but Eponine didn't answer she was running off. Her head pounding as she tried to get away before giving in to the lump forming in her throat. She definitely didn't want anyone to see her cry.

She reached the Well in the woods and felt she was a safe distance from them all, she climbed up and hung her legs down over the side, letting her tears drop down into the water below.

"Stupid Cosette" she muttered.

"Eponine, there you are."

Eponine recognised his voice and wiped her tear stained cheeks as quickly as she could and kept her head down so he wouldn't see her puffy eyes.

"Why don't you go and play with your new friend" She wasn't exactly sure what it was that was making her say these things but she felt so cross and she wanted him to be cross to.

"She's not my friend I just meet her."

"You seemed quite friendly to me."

"She looked poor and lost I felt sorry for her."

During the last summer he had told her that he had taken over his _Mére's _visits to the poor where he lived whenever he could get away from his tutors. She realised that she was going to lose this argument and so she changed tact.

"What are you doing here anyway its October?" she was pouting now, he came up and lent his fore arms on the edge of the Well.

"My Grandmother died, we are here for her funeral" he said frankly.

Her anger was instantly forgotten and replaced with an even stronger feeling of guilt, she swung round to face him. "I'm so sorry"

"Don't be, we were never close, she always said I was too much like _Mére_." It had been two years since his mother had died but Eponine could see his eyes still went to a faraway place when he spoke of her.

"I think you are like your _Mére_" she smiled "But that is a good thing."

He smiled back at her and held out his hand "Could you please get down off the Well before you give me a heart attack." He asked her.

She laughed and leaned forwards "Would you catch me if I fall?"

"Eponine…."

She leaned further making sure her hands were holding tightly onto the edge of the well.

"What will you give me if I get down?"

"Stop teasing before you really do fall down. I won't be jumping in after you"

She laughed, feeling much better now and took his offered hand jumping down bedside him. "I don't like you're new haircut."

He ran his hand over his trimmed locks. "I hate it but _Pére_ made me."

"Never mind, one day when you are grown up you can grow it as long as you like. Race you to the tree!"

~X~

It had started to rain Enjolras had tried to suggest that they got back to hers but Eponine had insisted that they couldn't. She had said Papa would be angry. Enjolras didn't believe her, she had never said anything about her Papa being angry before, she only ever talked about all the nice things he said to her like how she was the cleverest girl in the world or how she had the prettiest smile. Enjolras was envious of her father who thought so highly of her. He suspected the real reason she didn't want to go back was because she didn't want him to see Cosette again, he had only given the girl some coins because she looked hungry, he tried hard to remember what his _Mére_ used to say about helping the less fortunate, he had already told Eponine that she should be nicer to the poor girl, which Eponine had not taken kindly too.

In a way it touched Enjolras that she was jealous, Eponine was the only person in the world who truly cared about him anymore and her reaction had just shown him that further. He had been on his way to try and find her when he had bumped into the little ragged blonde girl. She was naturally the first thing he wanted to find when he got there because she was the best part of his life. At home he was miserable, the more his father rejected him the further he closed his heart off from any attempt at a relationship with him. Loving people only seemed to get you hurt. The only exception to that rule was his friend Eponine who was currently standing at his side smiling, as she often did and shaking the rain drops from her hair.

"Are you quite sure that your _Pére_ is not at home?" She looked a little worried, she probably remembered the last time she had meet his father.

"Certain, he and my Grandfather have had to go out and sort something from Grandmothers Will. They shouldn't be home until tea time"

Eponine's eyes lit up with a mischievous gleam.

"The whole house to ourselves" she smiled slyly "What shall we do?"

"Nothing that's going to get us into trouble" he replied quickly, Eponine had a habit of wanting to play dangerous games.

"Would I ever suggest such a thing" she cried in mock offence, "I was simply going to suggest a game of detectives"

Enjolras knew this would only end badly but the glimmer in her eyes was impossible to resist.

"What did you have in mind?"

She spun around on the spot as if too excited to contain herself "What is the one place in this house you have never ever been allowed to go?" she asked.

"Grandfathers study but I don't think…Eponine" as was so often the case with her she was already running off and he was left to chase behind.

She was running down the corridor peaking in all the rooms "Which one is it?"

He walked two doors further along from her and held the door open as she walked through. He had only ever caught glimpses of the room through cracks in the door before and he found it hard to overcome his trepidation standing undecided on the threshold staring into the dark wood panelled room, with a large Mahogany desk and a green leather wingback chair in one corner. Everything about the room was cross and harsh like his father and grandfather and he knew he shouldn't be in there. Eponine was in front of him pulling his hand,

"Come on its ok, they're not home, you said so yourself."

Still Enjolras stalled, she sighed at him and rolled her eyes "Ok I will stand at the door and be lookout."

Slightly comforted at the thought he entered the room and she stood with her back against the door holding it open keeping an eye on the corridor outside. He looked around the room, there were books on shelves covered with dust where they surely had not been used for a long time, it was a waste Enjolras thought.

"Have you found anything yet?" Eponine whispered.

"Give me a chance"

"You need to look in the desk, that's where all the secret stuff will be" her eyes were darting back and forth as she spoke, taking her position of lookout seriously.

He approached the desk and began opening the draws and riffling through, papers, more papers, a decanter with some kind of alcohol in it and a small glass. He tried to open the last draw but it wouldn't budge, he let out a frustrated grunt drawing Eponine's attention.

"What is it?" she looked at him, fully focused on the room now her eyes no longer checking to see if anyone was coming.

"The bottom draw won't open" he tried pulling it again but to no avail "It's locked."

Eponine pushed herself away from the door letting it swing close and walked towards him.

"Eponine the door."

She raised her eyes to the ceiling "No one is coming Enjolras, calm down."

She was pulling something out of her hair, a pin that was used to keep her bow in place. She knelt down beside the lock and placed the pin inside, her tongue pocked into her check causing it bulge out at one side as she concentrated, she was listen for something, the draw made a clicking sound and she sat back on her heels, obviously proud of herself as she pulled the draw open.

"Where did you learn to do that?" He was impressed, it was a seriously cool trick.

"This boy showed me, he came with some other men to see Papa a couple of weeks ago, I think his name was Montparnasse."

It was Enjolras turn to feel jealous now. He was quickly quashed the feeling though when Eponine's eyes widened and she brought out a bundle of letters tied together tightly with string.

"I told you secret stuff is always kept in the desks" she said her face shining with triumph.

Enjolras felt trepidation work its way down his spine. "I don't know if we should look at them"

"Why not?" she asked. Already untying the string that bound the letters together. Her face looked puzzled as her eyes scanned the first one, "this one is from your _Pére"_

She pulled out he next one and looked at it too her puzzlement increasing "this is from your _Pére _to. They're all from him, why does your Grandfather have letters from your _Pére_ locked in a draw?"

Enjolras was on the floor next to her now as she began to read out the one that was in her hand.

"_You ask the impossible of me sir, I respectfully decline your request to give her up she will be my wife and you shall have to learn to live with it or disinherit me!_"

Eponine turned to him with a face full of scandalised delight "I never knew your _Pére_ married your mother against your Grandfather's wishes."

It was Enjolras turn to look puzzled now. "He didn't, Grandfather approved of _Mére_ at first, I know because she said it was the only reason he married her." He picked up one of the letters that Eponine had discarded on the floor his eyes scanning it quickly.

"Eponine these aren't about my _Mére_ at all they are about someone else look" he pointed to a passage in the letter

"_I regret to inform you sir, that you were correct about her. She has declined my offer of marriage which was previously acceptable to her. Though I cannot account for her change of heart I can confirm that mine is still very much in love with her, from the moment I laid eyes on her, for you yourself admitted that her auburn hair and dark eyes made her a rare beauty. However I shall concede to you in this matter, if you still wish me to make an alliance with a girl of your choosing then we shall be married by the spring."_

They both stared at each other in shock. Enjolras was the first to break it.

"That was why he was always so cruel to _Mére._" It made him even more cross with his father for it was not his _Mére's_ fault if this other woman didn't want to marry him.

"Look," Eponine was reading the final letter in the bundle "This one is from your grandfather" She read out loud.

"_Mademoiselle, I am well aware of the recent relationship that has been brewing between yourself and my son, however I request an audience with you to discuss…"_

Eponine's voice trailed off as they both heard the sounds of the entrance door slamming closed and feet climbing the stairs that lead towards the room they were sat in. Eponine's arms reached out and clutched tightly onto his own, for all her bravery before she looked terrified now that they truly stood a chance of getting caught.

His mind jumped into action fast gathering the letters they had been reading together and tying the string back around them, Eponine's grip on his arm tightened as the footsteps could be heard getting nearer.

"They're coming!" She whispered urgently in his ear.

"You need to lock the draw again" he stated, she let go of his arms reaching out across the floor with her palms.

"My pin, I can't find it."

He copied her reaching across the carpet with his palms trying to locate the hidden pin. He bent his head down to the floor, his eyes scanning underneath the desk, found it. He reached out and passed it into Eponine's trembling hands as she fumbled, managing to lock the draw just as the sound of footsteps reached the outside of the room. His eyes quickly darted about trying to work out his next move. Hiding wasn't an option he had to get Eponine out. As the door handle turned he grabbed her by the arm pulling her to her feet and across the room standing behind the door as it swung open. His _Pére _and Grandfather strode into the room, discussing the business they had just carried out.

Enjolras held his breath and waited for his moment. The second both their backs were turned he pulled Eponine by the arm scurried out of the room as quickly and as quietly as he possibly could. As soon as they were a safe distance away they both broke into a run. They ran out the back door, down the road, they kept running for ten minutes and only when they were certain they had got away with it did they both stop, panting for breath hands on their knees trying to ease the stiches in their side. To his surprise Eponine started laughing the moment she had her breath back.

"That was so close, you were so quick getting us out of there." She cried

"You are a terrible lookout" was his only retort.

"Well" she laughed "It's a good job I don't plan on making a career out of it"

_**(AN2 – Random thought, who has got or seen the deluxe soundtrack? Did you see a wild Enjolras standing on top of the barricade! YAY, cue me fan girling in the middle of the shop! If there are any mistakes in this please forgive me I basically didn't sleep last night so I'm in Zombie mode today)**_


	5. Chapter 5 - Au Revoir

_**(AN – I'm sorry this chapter took so long, I couldn't do it by half measures. Let me know what you think. Feel free to hate me because I honestly I hate myself for what I'm about to do. Forgiveness please…)**_

**Chapter Five – Au Revoir**

_Montfermeil 1822 _

Enjolras was learning to hate anything that went outside his control he knew that many things were. Yet the older he got the harder he found this to accept.

Like the subtle change in dynamics between him and his best friend. He knew he was older now, twelve years old. Many were still children at that age but he already felt practically a man who was carrying too much of the world on his shoulders. The only place he had been able to come and feel young and carefree had been Montfermeil with Eponine but that was changing.

He could see her approaching him now, not running carefree the way she used to but walking towards him slowly. Her progress burdened by the small boy she was carrying on her hip. Not that she would have said she was burdened by the boy, she delighted in him. Smiling and laughing at everything he did, pressing kisses to the top of the little boys head.

Enjolras didn't mind her bringing him along. He understood more than anyone why she wanted to protect the small boy from the rejection of his parents. Rejection which he found hard to swallow, they had always been wonderful when Eponine described them before, still were to Eponine and Azelma, it was just the baby Gavroche that they didn't like.

"_Mama just leaves him and it breaks my heart to hear him cry." _That was what she had said the first Saturday of July when they had meet up again.

She was smiling now as she saw him waiting for her.

"Look Gavroche its Enjolras, wave at him" she beamed proudly at her friend as the little boy wriggled his chubby hand as she had asked. She had lost some of her puppy fat in the past year and she was developing deep dimples whenever she smiled. She had also grown taller. Perhaps it all contributed to the fact that she was no longer a small girl like before.

"Tell Enjolras your new word" she cooed at the boy "say _fleur_"

"_Fleur_" The boy repeated beaming proudly at his sister.

Enjolras reached out and took Gavroche from her, her burden removed she returned to the normal posture of a girl, not the posture of a young mother with her hip jutting out to support the extra weight she carried. In fact he was certain that it was the more maternal role that she had taken on which had begun the shift, he supposed it was kind of like how an older brother would feel, perhaps. All he knew for sure was that he felt like he wanted to be at Eponine's side ready to fight any fight for her and not allow anyone to make her sad.

"You do look very serious today, Serious Boy" she smirked as she used his dreaded nick name.

"I was just thinking" he shifted Gavroche in his arms.

"What about?" she tilted her head at him "Was it about something you learned from your tutors?"

He grasped the olive branch she had unintentionally held out to him "Yes, I was thinking about something Monsieur Boulanger taught me, although he says I must not tell _Pére_"

Her eyes widened "What, what did he tell you about?"

"The French revolution" he whispered almost as if his _Pére_ was going to be hiding behind one of the nearby trees.

"When they chopped off Marie Antoinette's head? I don't think they should have done that"

"It was for the good of Patria" he said puffing up his chest.

"Who is Patria?" she looked confused, possibly a little hurt at the thought of him having another friend.

"Patria is France Eponine, she is this country. Monsieur Boulanger is a republican. That means he thinks that a country should be run by someone who is elected by the people not someone who is just born in charge" he added the last bit because he had seen her confusion.

"I don't see how it matters who runs the country" she shrugged.

"Of course it matters" he was offended that she had shrugged off the new things he was learning. Things that inspired him and filled him with hopes of a better world the kind _Mére_ would have wanted. It was childish, but he felt cross with her for being so silly about something which Monsieur Boulanger had told him was so important.

"You only want there to be a king so you can marry a prince because you are a silly girl who isn't capable of seeing the more important things." His words hit their mark he saw her wince slightly but she lifted her chin defiantly at him.

"I don't care who runs the country because it's a silly thing to worry about. It's not like anyone would listen to what I had to say on the matter anyway. And for your information I'm not going to marry a prince anymore I'm going to marry Montparnasse."

"I thought you were going to marry me if you couldn't marry a prince" he said kicking a stone on the ground and staring at it as if it was the most important thing in the world. Her other friends name had been coming up more and more often in the past few weeks and it was making him a bit jealous.

"You're not going to get married though are you?" she explained.

They were both quiet for moment.

"_Fleur"_ Gavroche chose this moment to proudly shout his new word causing them both to laugh.

"Let's go and throw stones in the Well" she chuckled. As they walked she obviously couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him further.

"Admit it. You're a little bit jealous that I'm going to marry Montparnasse."

"No I'm not" Enjolras bit back "but you've only meet him three times."

"Well he only comes when his uncle has business to conduct with Papa. He is very handsome though"

Enjolras tried hard not to look envious but he obviously failed because she was laughing at him.

"Enjolras don't be jealous. He will never be my blood brother that will only ever be you. Look" she held up her thumb for him to inspect the white scar left on her skin. He lifted the corner of his mouth in a lopsided smile, feeling slightly better.

"We are going to be best friends forever Enjolras, nothing is going to change that."

~X~

_Montfermeil 1824_

Eponine hadn't seen the change in her life coming. She had relied on her life always being perfect and things always being as she planned. When she thought of all the times she had comforted her best friend as his life slowly dissolved after the death of his mother she wondered she had not realised sooner what a fickle friend time could be.

It had all been going wrong since Christmas when the man came to take Cosette away. Eponine hadn't really known much about it at the time. The only part of his influence she saw with her own eyes was the beautiful doll he brought Cosette after she had been playing with one of Azelma's old ones.

Then the next day when she and Azelma returned from playing outside, Cosette was gone, forever. Papa had been in a foul mood muttering something under his breath regarding how he should have taken his gun.

Things seemed to have been going steadily downhill since that day. Papa had started drinking earlier in the day and consuming larger quantities of alcohol. He no longer cared to speak to Azelma or herself. Mama seemed more irritable to and had no time for her girls like she had before. Eponine couldn't ignore the feeling that something was going terribly wrong but no one was telling her what it was.

Montparnasse and his uncle and their friends were visiting more often discussing _business propositions_ with Papa in hushed tones. Montparnasse didn't stay outside to play with her like he used to. He had proudly told her the first time they visited that now he was thirteen he was involved in the meetings. Once she had sneaked to the door and found them discussing her.

"_She's a kid Thenardier and the other one is even younger. Children, don't be sick, even the Patron-Minette have some standards" A man was saying to her father._

"_She's a child now but in five years, six years' time she won't be any longer. Think of it as an investment. You know I have nothing else to offer, the Bastard really put the pressure on us once he found us again. He has had our creditors call in every sous, there is no money left."_

She was too young to understand the first part of the conversation but she was not naive enough to ignore the importance of the second. If all their money was gone how would they keep their Inn? How would they buy food?

Eponine pushed the frightful thoughts aside. It was her favourite day of the year, the first Saturday of July and Enjolras would be here. She was more excited than she ever had been before to see him. All the times before when he had needed her, when his mother died and she had been there to comfort him now the tables were turned and she was the frightened one in need of comfort.

"Where do you think your off to little mademoiselle" came the voice of her father, he sounded sinister, as he often did in the past few months but Eponine knew it was just his temper getting the better of him, she was not truly afraid, her Papa would never hurt her.

"I was going to go outside and…"

"You're not going anywhere!" her father barked, she was used to him shouting now but this was not quite like times before and it made her jump back slightly.

"But Papa…"

"You have chores to do, we don't have Cosette here anymore it's your responsibility to pick up the slack."

"I've done them Papa" she had rushed through them this morning as quick as possible so she would be able to get away at lunch time like normal.

"It's the first Saturday of July. My friend is here, the boy I meet every summer."

Her father was in front of her with a few sharp strides his hands grabbed the front of her dress pulling her upwards so that she had to tiptoe or her feet wouldn't have touched the ground.

"You're running off to your little Bourgeois friend? I don't think so!"

To her utter shock he threw her towards the ground with some force, she didn't fall but she was trembling head to toe, her Papa, her dear Papa who had laughed and joked with her and sat her on his knee in the past, had thrown her to the ground. Her mind was reeling not certain how to comprehend the latest turn of events.

"H-he he's my friend Papa, I always meet him"

Her father's hand came down across her face sending her sprawling across the floor. She clutched at her cheek the burning sensation next to her right eye was painful but it was nothing compared to the pain she felt in her heart.

"You are not going to meet him" her father said slowly "you're no longer in a position to be wandering around the countryside with whichever boy you choose, your favours have been promised to the Patron-Minette as soon as you are deemed old enough and I won't have you handing them out for free."

"My- my favours" she stammered, she was unsure what her father was talking about. He stalked away from her leaving her where she cowered on the floor.

Her first instinct was to simply dissolve into floods of tears but something inside her told her to run, get out of here, don't look back. She was certain something very terrible would happen if she stayed and so, when she saw the coast was clear she bolted for the door.

~X~

Enjolras heard shouting coming from his Grandfather's study. It struck him as odd because he had never heard his Father shout at his Grandfather before.

Now that he was on the brink of becoming a man his father had suddenly decided that he may be of interest and it had become Enjolras' turn to reject the advances his father made. He no longer had a desire for a relationship of any kind with his father and had up until that moment ignored the many attempts of the two older men to get him to engage with them in the study which was no longer off bounds to him. Today was different though, the voices coming from there got the better of him.

"Henri, be reasonable, I did it for your own good" his Grandfather was standing behind the desk, the letters that Eponine and himself had found four years previously were spread out on the table. His Father stood with his back to them both staring out of the window.

"If it was Enjolras…"

"Marcelin" his father sneered, still trying to stop the growing trend of referring to his son by his last name.

"If it was Marcelin" his Grandfather corrected "You would have done the same thing"

Enjolras looked coldly between the two men who stood in an awkward silence, he would have turned to leave but his father chose that moment to notice him.

"Marcelin" he clipped out "pack your things we are leaving. We shall never return to this place again."

Enjolras opened his mouth to protest but his father had not finished, he rounded viscously on the aged man.

"Everything I have suffered was at your hands because of you I was stuck with…" His father's eyes flitted to him, taking in the fact that he was growing taller, he obviously decided to be careful what he said about the boy's mother in front of him.

"Well, you know very well what the results of your actions were. You took her from me, the only person I ever loved. How could you?"

"I did it for the best. Please Henri you cannot take the only family I have away from me now" to Enjolras surprise his Grandfather looked slightly stricken at the thought.

"I can and will. Marcelin pack you things" The final sentence was uttered in a tone that invited no argument as his father stomped out of the room.

His Grandfather turned as if to address his entreaty to him but Enjolras was already backing away from the door, if they never came to Montfermeil again, he would never see Eponine, the only person in the world that he trusted. He needed to find her.

He could no longer run with the agility of a child and so he practically crashed his way through the woods. Which was why he was surprised when she did not turn around immediately because she couldn't have failed to hear him coming. She sat on the branch where they always waited. Her head was down as if she was fascinated by something on her shoe, which he noted was slightly scuffed. Her legs weren't swinging the way they usually did. Her air of excited energy didn't seem to be around her. A prickle of warning ran down his spine.

"Eponine, I'm so pleased you're here, _Pére_ has argued with Grandfather and now he says we must leave, he said we are never coming back."

Her head darted up as if she had suddenly awoken from a daydream she jumped down and ran towards him, flinging her arms around his waist as they used to when they were young. They didn't do it so much now they were older and so he was slightly startled, even more so when he realised that she was crying.

"Eponine are you ok?"

"You have to take me with you Enjolras, you can't leave me here by myself" she mumbled into his chest.

"You know I can't do that"

She pulled away from him at his words and took a step backwards. That was when he saw it the ugly red mark on the top of her right cheekbone that had swollen up causing her eye to look sunken.

"Di-Did someone hit you?" Enjolras surprised even himself by the way his voice came out in an angry shaken whisper, the image of his own mother falling at his father's hand flashed through his mind, that was bad but this was worse, Eponine was a child.

She didn't responded just eyed him with a strange look, he was shocked when he realised she looked as if she didn't trust him.

"Look," she began shrugging her shoulders "I can't explain everything to you but I just know that I need to get away from here and you're leaving so you can take me with you."

His brow furrowed as he considered her, of course he knew it was impossible, how could he take her with him. Yet the thought of someone hitting her made him want to help so he repeated his question.

"Who hit you?"

"No one." She replied quickly, her hand self-consciously touching the red mark on her cheek. "Just Papa is very short tempered now days and he shouted at me. I was startled and fell over and hit my face that is all."

Enjolras felt relief sweep through him, he had been truly worried that someone was hurting his friend. But if it was just that her Papa was cross, although he knew a cross parent was not nice, it was not dire. Also, Eponine loved her Papa, hadn't she always told him how Papa was the greatest in the world, how he would hold her high above his head and run around the room with her so she could pretend she was a bird. It was just a misunderstanding and she was just upset.

"I can't take you with me but…"

"Then I'll run away" she cut him off swinging around so her back was to him. "And don't doubt me because I swear I will."

"Eponine you're being foolish. It was just an argument with your Papa. I've had hundreds with _Pére_ and I've never run away."

Eponine swung back around and cast him a look of such anguish he was certain that if looks could kill he would no longer be standing.

"I. Am. Not. Foolish." She cried annunciating each word slowly as if to drive home her point. "You are foolish. You are nothing but a stupid…stupid Mama's boy who thinks he knows everything but doesn't know anything. You've lectured me about helping those less fortunate for the last two years but when it comes to putting it into practice, to helping me, you do nothing. Your _Mére_ would be ashamed of you!"

A sharp tongue can be the harshest of weapons and Eponine's had found its target perfectly. The words pierced through Enjolras' heart as if she was cutting out a piece of his soul, the last piece that held onto believing that there was a small glimmer of hope in his dark world. The glimmer was fading now but he still tried to keep on to it.

"Eponine, you don't mean that"

"Yes I do!" she cried with tears rolling down her face. He was angry now, how dare she claim he wasn't helping her, how dare she call him names.

"Well you are nothing but a spoilt, pampered little baby!" he cried "Who has one sign of trouble in her perfect little life and wants to run away. Do you know how many times I've had to cope with my father shouting and I never once reacted like a little baby!"

"Only because you always had me there to pick up the pieces, to comfort you and help you laugh again. And now when I need you I'm a baby! How can you abandon me like this when I've never needed you more?"

"I'm not abandoning you, you are overacting"

Her hands wiped the tears away from her cheeks. She winced as she rubbed harshly against the mark on her face as if she had forgotten it was there.

"Fine, well, thank you." She stammered "Thank you for being my friend Enjolras, it's been nice to know you. _Au revoir_"

She turned her back to him, he knew he should stop her from walking away but his pride got the better of him, he was still smarting from the fact that she had said _Mére_ would be ashamed of him.

"_Au revoir"_ he said. She had stopped walking as he began to speak, perhaps she had expected him to stop her but he didn't.

"I'll probably never see you again" she whispered.

"Good" No, he meant bad, very bad but he couldn't stop himself, he turned and walked away.

"Fine," she shouted at his back "I never want to see you again anyway. You are not my blood brother anymore and…I hate you!"

Enjolras said nothing more to her. He strode away towards his house as the last person he could rely on was finally snatched away from him.

~X~

It took Eponine only one afternoon to regret everything she had said. She had been hurt. She was terrified of what the future held for her as she saw her family crumbling around her. That afternoon Papa tried to hit Azelma but Eponine had jumped in his way taking the blow for her sister. She didn't want her best friend in the world to leave her so she ran all the way to his house to apologise but he was no longer there. He must have truly meant it when he said that never seeing her again was good. He had abandoned her.

~X~

Enjolras' temper once provoked was not as quick to subside as Eponine's and it took him about a month before he fully regretted the things he had said. She had been overreacting but he shouldn't have told her she was a spoilt baby. He should have taken the time to listen to her fears the way she had always listened to his. He certainly shouldn't have told her that never seeing her again was good when really it was one of the worst things that could happen. He wrote to her, told her how sorry he was said that he would even help her to come and visit him if she liked. But she never wrote back, she had abandoned him.


	6. Chapter 6 - Shadow From The Past

_**(AN – Wow, you guys thank you so much for all your reviews on the last chapter! You're all literally the best! Seredhiel05 – I promise we have some good Gavroche action soon although he is not directly involved in their meeting. Eliannee05 – you asked for dramatic & tragic. I hope this lives up to your expectations. Everyone else – I love you all more than Grantaire loves alcohol! Enjoy this chapter and as always keep your thoughts and feedback coming…I love hearing your suggestions)**_

**Chapter Six – Shadow From the Past**

_Paris 1832 (May)_

Eponine was wearing a pink, no, blue, no a red, definitely red ball gown. Her hair was pulled up onto her head in an elegant coiffure. She stood at the top of the marble steps that lead down into the ball room where all the fashionable people had stopped to stare at her entrance. She waved her fan demurely in front of her face, a young man came bounding up the stairs offering her his arm.

"Mademoiselle" he greeted her.

"Monsieur Pontmercy" she laughed lightly as he led her down the stairs and onto the dance floor.

"May I?" he asked, she nodded her consent and he began to whirl her around the floor, his green eyes sparkled as he opened his mouth and said….

"Eh, what you doing twirling around like that 'Ponine?"

Eponine sighed as her day dream dissolved around her, she was standing in rags in the hovel that was now her home the only gentleman before her was not the kindly and gentle Marius but Montparnasse. She didn't feel like dealing with him at the moment.

"Papa is not here" she said moving forwards to pass him, he stopped her by placing a hand on her waist.

"Where are you going 'Ponine? Leaving so soon without so much as a kiss hello, or goodbye?"

Eponine internally grimaced. This was exactly what she hadn't wanted to deal with. She plastered a smile across her face.

"Parnasse" she said sweetly, it was always better to get out of these situations without outright refusing him "You know I have all the time in the world for you but right now I must be getting on, I have an errand to run and…" His hand remained on her waist but the other hand grabbed her wrist and was squeezing it tighter as she spoke, alarm bells started to ring, this was not a good sign.

"I must meet someone, I can't be late"

"Who are you meeting?" he asked his grey eyes narrowed in suspicion and his voice turned sinister.

"Just a friend" she said looking as innocent as she could.

It was the wrong answer. Montparnasse pushed her backwards causing her to trip over a wooden stall that clattered to the floor. He grabbed her other wrist in his large hand pinning them both in front of her.

"What friend?" he asked his breath was hot against her face, but she smelt no alcohol and she knew that was a bonus. "Not that bloody Bourgeois boy you're always hanging round with. You think I haven't noticed the way you're following him around like a love sick puppy."

"You're being ridiculous" she tried not to squirm against the pain in her wrists. She saw Azelma's worried face peek around the door at her, she made eye contact with her sister and shook her head slightly telling her not to worry.

"I'm not ridiculous" Montparnasse screeched. He was getting angry.

"I know, I'm sorry, of course you're not" she placated him.

His free hand reached around her grabbing hold of her bum and squeezing it tightly. Outraged Eponine wanted to slap him across the face but she wouldn't have even if her hands had been free. She knew that he was testing her, it was an act of possession and she knew better than to fight against it or it would turn into something much worse. She simply fixed her eyes on his and imagined how much she would enjoy kicking him in the groin.

"Kiss me then" he demanded.

Eponine sighed and closed her eyes as his mouth slobbered over hers.

There had been a time when she hadn't minded his kisses, although they had been more innocent and involved a lot less slobbering and grabbing back then. It wasn't that Montparnasse wasn't handsome. In fact he had quite a pretty face that a lot of the girls from the slums admired. Eponine's opinion of him had changed forever though, once he was 'initiated' into the Patron-Minette. She would never forget it. She had been the one on lookout that night. Montparnasse's job had been to scare the owner of the house, rough him up a bit so he would be too afraid to report the crime. But 'Parnasse had enjoyed it too much, he hadn't been able to control himself. Eponine still heard the cries of the man Montparnasse killed that night sometimes. From that day to this the boy's face no longer held any beauty for her.

She knew however that no matter how much she despised 'Parnasse's kisses they saved her from a much worse fate. Unbeknown to herself or Azelma her father had promised them as an investment to gain entry to the Patron-Minette as soon as they were old enough to be of interest. Montparnasse's skill as an assassin had made him an invaluable member of the gang and as such he had asked to claim Eponine for his own. The other's had agreed and her parent's even referred to him as their son-in-law. He had never pushed his 'ownership' further than a few kisses and fumbled gropes so far and Eponine was grateful for that. It was Azelma she worried about, she was seventeen now and she didn't know how much longer it would be before the Patron-Minette would want to cash in on their investment.

Montparnasse ended the kiss bringing her back to the present day. He lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. It took every inch of her self-possession not to turn her face away from the man she despised.

"I must be going 'Parnasse. Shall I walk you to where father is?" Her heart felt relieved when he agreed. She hadn't wanted to leave him alone with Azelma.

She left Montparnasse at the dank hang out of the Patron-Minette. Relived to finally be rid of him she looked up at the sky. It was dark, it must be late. Marius would be at the Café Musain where he met with his friends. She would go and wait for him there. She felt instantly more light-hearted at the thought of seeing Marius.

~X~

The words he had been writing on the paper before him went blurry. Enjolras closed his tired eyes, his dry lids doing little to relieve him. He was well aware he shouldn't have stayed up half the night searching his books for the other half of a quote that had drifted into his head just before he went to sleep but it had been too perfect to risk leaving it till morning when it might be forgotten.

"Just take it Gavroche, I won't tell you again" Courfeyrac was saying pressing a half loaf of bread into the small boy's hands.

"Thanks Courf, you're the best"

Enjolras allowed a small smile to pass his lips, he was glad Courfeyrac had taken the boy under his wing. Enjolras did not have time to do so himself, nothing could distract him from his cause but that didn't mean he wanted the boy to go without. He had originally allowed the street urchin to infiltrate the group because he had reminded him of the Gavroche he had known as a baby but the lad had said he had no family which removed all possibility that it was the same boy he had known before. Still he felt a strange kind of responsibility towards him. Gavroche, meanwhile, had worked his charms on the other members of the Les Amis making him an honorary member of their group.

"You look terrible" Combeferre said approaching him and placing his hand on his shoulder.

"Indeed, thank you for your honesty" Enjolras bit back sarcastically.

"Drink?" Combeferre asked sitting down opposite him. Enjolras did little more than spare him a withering glace

"What?" Combeferre laughed "you look as if you could use it"

"You are perfectly well aware that I do not drink" he replied.

This, for some unknown reason caused his friend to laugh even more. Combeferre sat in silence with him for a few moments more then continued.

"Lermarque is ill but Joly says he is unlikely to die for another few weeks, a month at most and if Joly says that it must be true. So do yourself a favour and just this once leave now with the rest of us instead of staying up for God knows how long."

Enjolras sighed deeply, he knew his friend was right and his aching eyes urged him to comply. "Very well."

He gathered up his books and papers and stuffed them into his leather satchel before joining his friends walking out into the cold night air.

It may not necessarily appear the case to an outside observer but he was incredibly fond of his friends and enjoyed the kind of brotherly comradery they shared that had been missing from his younger years. Grantaire and Courfeyrac walked slightly ahead in a deep discussion regarding the _assets_ of the young lady who worked behind the bar of the café Musain. He hung back slightly with Combeferre. Joly and Marius walked behind, Joly lecturing Marius on some apparent lack of care he had taken with his health which alarmed the medical student.

"Marius!" The cry came from a young gamine who appeared from the shadows where she had obviously been waiting for the student. A smile spread across Marius face as she sauntered up to him, whether that was purely for the girl or because the distraction was an excuse to get away from Joly's lecture Enjolras couldn't tell.

Enjolras turned his face away placing a well practised bored expression over his features. It was well known among the Les Amis that a gamine was infatuated with Marius and followed him everywhere. They all referred to her as 'Marius' Shadow'. Everyone except Marius who apparently remained oblivious, this apparently was the girl in question.

Marius was laughing at something the girl had said.

"Eponine you do say the funniest things." He chuckled.

Enjolras head snapped back to attention. Eponine, it wasn't exactly a common name. He eyed the gamine in front of him. No it couldn't be the same girl. The girl he had known had been a spoilt plump little girl with rosy cheeks and ready laugh on her lips, always dressed in the finest dresses with brand new bonnets to match. He considered the girl before him carefully, she had no shoes, and she was painfully thin, it was her waist that shocked him the most, how could anyone fail to notice how small it was. Her clothes were little more than rags that barely left anything to the imagination. Enjolras blushed slightly at the thought. He focused his attention on her face, her cheeks were sunken. At that moment Marius said something that amused her and her whole face lit up her eyes flashed and dimples appeared on her cheeks.

_My God!_ Enjolras thought! It really was Eponine. There had been no mistaking her as soon as she smiled. The realisation rooted him to the spot momentarily. What had happened here, what had become of the laughing little girl he knew? Why was she standing in the street before him practically the embodiment of the people he was planning a revolution for? And why did he have a sudden urge to punch Pontmercy? A hundred questions swirled around his mind but only one word escaped his lips.

"Eponine?" it came out as more of a question than he had intended.

She turned a suspicious gaze to him, as did the members of the Les Amis who were with them. She looked him up and down then stared intently into his face, her eyes finally settling on his as hers widened with realisation.

"Serious Boy?" she asked. Combeferre shot him a puzzled glance but before he could say anything Eponine had launched herself towards him throwing her arms around him.

"It really is you isn't it Enjolras"

The jaws of all his friends seemed to drop simultaneously. Enjolras, embarrassed by the display stepped back and out of her embrace. This clearly jogged her memory of the less than friendly way they had left their last meeting. She moved her hands which had hung awkwardly since he had broken off the embrace and shoved him with what was obviously all her might.

The jaws of the Les Amis were practically on the floor now. Enjolras took a step backwards to regain his balance.

"Nice to see you again too" he drawled.

"You!" she took several steps backwards her eyes full of accusations "You abandoned me!"

"Eponine…" he didn't really know where to begin, he had a lot he wanted to ask her, mostly what on earth happened to you. But he was not oblivious to the five pairs of eyes that were watching the conversation take place between them with keen interest and he was not one for having his personal life on display for all to see.

"How long exactly have you been in Paris?" she shot at him.

"Three years I'm studying at the university"

"And you've never once saw me, or thought to look for me" She accused.

"I didn't know you were here. Anyway as I recall the last time we spoke you wasn't exactly ecstatic about the prospect of ever seeing me again." Enjolras wasn't exactly sure why he was letting his temper get the better of him.

Pain flashed across her eyes "Your right. I seem to recall you saying something similar. Well I won't take up any more of your time. I'm pleased to see you are doing so…so well" she gestured towards him. "Marius I will see you later" she smiled a brilliant smile at the boy as she began to walk off but she paused and looked over her shoulder. "I'm glad you grew you hair again, always did look better long" she said.

The corner of his mouth twitched in spite of himself, it was just such an Eponine thing to say. Within seconds she disappeared again into the shadows which caused him to frown. What was she doing out anyway she was scared of the dark.

Grantaire, never one to miss an opportunity to stir up a bit of trouble was the first to break the silence.

"What, pray, was that about Enjolras? Has out very own Apollo got a secret he hasn't told us about."

Enjolras glared at him but it only seemed to increase the merriment.

"Something you wish to tell us?" He laughed "And Marius shadow as well!"

"Nothing like that you filthy minded drunkard. I knew her when she was a small girl. Now if you gentleman would excuse me I grow tired. Goodnight" and with a nod he left them behind, no doubt to discuss the very odd episode which they had just been witness to.

His feet strode towards his home but his mind wandered to Eponine. Had she run away like she had threatened the last day she spoke to him? Was that why she looked as she did? He shuddered at the thought because he was well aware of the fate of young girls who wandered the streets of Paris, surely she was not working the docks. He regretted being so harsh to her. He had found his childhood friend after all these years and he had let his blasted temper get the better of him.

Then he spotted her up ahead, darting down an alley way. That was certainly no place for a young lady to be going. Whether or not they had parted on good terms she had once been his friend, and he had upset her, perhaps he should catch up with her and make sure she was alright.


	7. Chapter 7 - Look What's Become Of Me

_**(AN – Hi you guys, I'm so so sorry I haven't updated for a week, I was on holiday and I have had no internet and no phone signal for the last week! I'm going onto a new place now where there will be signal so I will be able to update again but at the moment I've only got 5 minutes of internet connection before I travel on. I can see I've got emails ect from people I'm not ignoring you I just have no time to check them yet. I will reply to them asap I just wanted to get this chapter up for you guys asap)**_

**Chapter Seven – Look What's Become of Me**

"_You grew your hair again"_ Eponine cringed. What a stupid thing to say. Of all the things in the world what had possessed her to say that! Her cheeks were burning bright red with embarrassment and that was a very unusual experience for her. It wasn't just what she had said it was the whole situation, the way he had looked at her, the pity she had seen in his eyes. He had seen how far she had fallen since they were children. Perhaps it would have been better if she had just lived in his past so that in at least one person's mind she would always be the carefree girl she once was.

She mentally shook herself, it was far too frustrating. Her first reaction when she had realised it was him had been overjoyed. Her very dear friend, all the happy memories of days spent running around Montfermeil had come to mind. Then she had remembered their parting words to each other.

"_You'll probably never see me again"_

"_Good"_

It felt as if her heart had broken all over again. The abandonment somehow seemed much worse as an adult. Yet here he had been in Paris for three years. She wondered how many times their paths might have crossed without either realising.

To her exasperation she felt tears stinging in her eyes. Had he stepped back from her because he had not forgiven her for the nasty things she had said to him all those years ago or was he simply embarrassed to be associated with someone as low as her? Probably both, Enjolras was the missing page from her happy past and now he obviously wanted nothing to do with her and it hurt.

She was so preoccupied with her melancholy musings that she didn't notice the two men who stepped out in front of her.

"Hello lovely lady" said the first one with a leering grin. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and paid them no mind. She wasn't unused to their type when she wandered the street at night.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" The second one asked as both kept up pace either side of her. Eponine rolled her shoulders back and held her head up high making her petite frame look as tall as possible.

"Aye, isn't she Thenardier's daughter?" The first one asked his friend.

"She is an all" the friend confirmed.

Good, now perhaps they will leave me alone she thought. To her surprise they did not, in fact the first young man grabbed her elbow harshly, she yanked it from his grasp.

"No need to act so prim" the man taunted "We all know your father is whoring you out to the Patron-Minette"

That was enough. Eponine rounded on the two men "Leave me alone!"

She turned to carry on walking expecting them to back off in search of easier pickings as they usually did in such cases. She made it only a few more feet before they cornered her. Standing either side of her with her back to the wall so that she was fenced in not even bothering to hide their actions.

"Come on its only one kiss" The first man said grabbing her chin harshly and tilting her face up towards him.

"Let go of me" she hissed spitting at the man and yanking her face from his grasp.

"You'll pay for that you little slut" he cried grabbing her wrist.

"I believe she told you to let go."

Eponine knew the voice without looking up. She closed her eyes tightly and hoped he would go away. This was beyond humiliating, as if he needed further proof of her downfall into worthlessness. She opened her eyes and looked up but Enjolras was still standing there glaring at the two men.

"Find your own whore rich boy" the man who held her wrist said, spinning her round so that her arm was behind her back. "We got this one first and you've got enough money to pay for one at the docks"

Eponine kept her eyes on the ground compelling it to open up and swallow her or better yet, she thought, let me wake up and this whole mortifying episode could just be a dream. She risked a peep up at Enjolras, he hadn't moved from his position glaring at the two men but his hands had curled into fists at his sides. His whole body was bristling with subdued strength the men obviously noticed it as well because she could feel the man who held her loosen his grip.

"What do you want with her anyway?" the second man asked.

"She's my friend, you are hurting her."

Eponine returned her gaze to the floor. The men had obviously decided she was more trouble than she was worth and threw her forwards.

"You have the little slut then."

She stumbled but Enjolras reached out to steady her placing his hands on her shoulders. She looked up into his face, there was that irritating look in his eye again, pity. She didn't need it from anyone, especially him.

"What did you do that for?" She hissed the situation put her on the defensive. He looked at her with incredulity.

"You looked as if you needed some help" He replied, barely able to hide the sarcasm in his response.

"I'm quite capable of looking after myself."

"Clearly"

As if pity wasn't bad enough now he was patronising her, Eponine was suddenly very aware of how close she was standing to him, her head barely reached the top of his shoulders, which were much broader than the last time they had meet, she had to crane her head upwards to look into his eyes. She felt oddly intimidated and took a few steps backwards.

"You've been back in my life the whole of five minutes and you suddenly think you can come charging in like a knight in shining armour? I've managed quite well without you for the last nine years!" she threw her arms up in frustration that was a mistake. His eye's darted instantly to the slightly purpled rings around her wrists curtsey of Montparnasse earlier.

"Eponine what happened? Why are you here?"

"We moved here…"

"No that's not what I meant. I mean here right now, it's dark. You're scared of the dark."

Eponine couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of his statement.

"That was a long time ago Monsieur. I have learned that there are worse things than the dark."

She couldn't stand the way he kept looking at her. Like he couldn't understand where the girl he knew had gone. She often wondered herself.

"Did you run away as you threatened?"

"No" she folded her arms across herself "Someone told me that would be foolish."

"Then how did you end up…"

"Like this? She interrupted him gesturing down at herself. "Quite frankly I'd rather not talk about it." She noted the way he tilted his head at her, no doubt he was wondering how long he would acceptably have to stay here before he could leave without seeming rude, the thought made her angry and sad at the same time.

"I'm not a whore though." She didn't know why she needed to tell him.

"Excuse me?"

"Those men said I was a whore. Just wanted you to know I'm not."

"I never thought that you were"

"Of course you did it was the first thing to cross you mind I'm sure"

He opened his mouth as if to argue but changed his mind deciding to try a different tact.

"So you are Pontmercy's shadow"

She laughed "Is that what your friends call me?"

"I can't believe you're the girl who is always following him around" he said more to himself than her.

"How do you know Marius anyway?" A sudden thought occurred to her "It's you isn't it, you're the student who wants to start a revolution."

"How do you know about that?" He snapped.

"There are a lot of things I know" she smirked at him she could tell she was getting him riled up.

"Who else knows about it?"

"No one else" she laughed she could tell she was annoying him more "Marius told me a little bit about it and I haven't told anyone, I should have guessed it was you."

"Pontmercy" he muttered under his breath.

"Anyway, this has been a lovely catch up but I really must be getting home before Papa gets cross" she darted down an alley and out of his sight before he had a chance to say anything else.

It hurt too much to be around him. It reminded her of what she had been and what she no longer was. It was like her lost innocence was being thrown in her face. In spite of that she smiled to herself, she was glad she had gotten to see him again.

~X~

Despite all his best intentions when he had left the Café the previous night Enjolras had not got the sleep he intended. For once the cause was not the revolution. The confusion and frustration caused by seeing Eponine again only seemed to have increased the more he thought about it, nothing about the situation made sense.

He was trying to concentrate on his lecture but so far he had made very few notes. Bahorel was smirking at him from the next seat. The very fact that Bahorel had bothered to turn up for a change was proof that news of what had happened last night had spread, he was certain his fellow 'student' was there because he wanted to be the first to question him and for no other reason.

His suspicions were confirmed when the lecture was finished. Enjolras had not even begun to gather his things together when Bahorel started.

"So what is this I hear about you and Marius' Shadow?" he smirked.

"I am not blessed with the gift of reading your mind Bahorel so I cannot tell you what you heard" Enjolras run his hand through his hair messing up his curls.

"That the two of you have _history_" Bahorel explained, clearly enjoying his friend's discomfort.

"If you refer to the fact that I was acquainted with her many years ago then yes, we do have history. If you are insinuating anything else then I must inform you are incorrect."

Bahorel regarded his friend for a moment before placing his hand on his shoulder "Bossuet was right about you."

Enjolras simply raised his eyebrow in enquiry.

"That you suffer for your greatness"

Enjolras couldn't help but scoff at this.

"No, really you do" Bahorel continued "Most of the rest of us have something we fight for apart from the revolution we have the mistresses that make us brave. But you are not in love. There is some debate as to whether or not you even believe in it outside of love for Patria. Yet, you still find a way to be courageous."

"I believe in love" Enjolras countered, slightly confused by the strange remarks and very much annoyed that his friends had taken it into their heads to have such an in depth discussion of his life. "I believe most of all for love of your country. Love of Patria and the republic and love for the people of France. Contrary, apparently, to popular belief though, I do believe in 'romantic' love. I believe that it is one of the most destructive forces in this world and any sane man would strive to avoid it at all costs."

Bahorel looked to his friend with the kind of awe that he sometimes saw on people's faces after one of his speeches. How could Enjolras explain to him that it was more than just love of his country that he fought for? That in a way there was a woman to make him brave. The long lost memory of a ghost of a woman who had told him to always look out for others and that he was in this world to make it great. A woman who he had let down when she needed him.

Thankfully the whole conversation was disrupted by Grantaire who, although it was only mid-afternoon, was roaring drunk and stumbled up to them providing a welcome change of topic. Enjolras pushed the ghosts that haunted him aside. Thinking of Eponine brought memories he tried to ignore back to the fore. He decided that enough time had been spent thinking over a subject on which there was nothing much he could do for the moment anyway and so he decided he would refocus his attention on the matter at hand, revolution.

He succeeded in his new resolve until that evening when he sat in his usual place at the Café Musain and was approached by Gavroche.

"Monsieur, it true what everyone is saying 'bout you knowing my sister?"

"Gavroche, you have no family." He felt that he was stating the obvious and yet somehow he couldn't help himself.

"Well technically speaking I don't but 'Ponine was basically like my Mama till I was kicked out. Even then she put up a good fight for me, paid for it to I should imagine."

Enjolras stared at the boy unable to believe it was the same babe he had held in his own arms so many years ago. Feeling like a bit of an idiot he simply repeated his previous statement.

"You said you have no family"

"Yeah, well, my Papa is part of the Patron-Minette, it's not exactly something I like to advertise. Safer to say I'm on my own."

"Gavroche, if Eponine is your sister you do realise I knew you when you were a baby" Enjolras smiled "I helped teach you to count the three when you were only two years old."

Gavroche grinned widely at this "_Merci_ for that. Knew there had to be a reason why I was so clever. You really were the Serious Boy 'Ponine sometimes talked of then?"

"Wait, Gavroche, why were you kicked out."

"My parents were never exactly fond of me" the boy shrugged "I don't remember Montfermeil, was only a babe really, when we moved to Paris you see but 'Ponine sometimes talked of it. Of the time when our parents stilled loved her and 'Zelma. Anyway like I said, they weren't much fond of me I wasn't really any use to them I was just an extra mouth to feed. Plus I was always getting Papa angry, then 'Ponine would get in trouble for sticking up for me. So soon as I got old enough to realise what was happening I figured it would be better if I left, one day Papa told me to go so I did. Then 'Ponine wouldn't always get in trouble for looking out for me and she would only have herself and 'Zelma to worry about. She still looks after me though, when she can, making sure I got food and stuff. She's a good 'un our 'Ponine."

Courfeyrac entered at that moment and Gavroche scampered off to talk to him. Enjolras was left even more confused. His mind began to wander towards the situation but he stopped himself. Whatever had happened she obviously hadn't wanted to tell him about it and he had no more time to waste on such a trivial matter. He turned his attention back to the notes he was making for tomorrows rally. The whole time trying to ignore the unease that was taking its grip on him.

_**(P.S I haven't grammar checked this yet so please forgive me if there are mistakes I will probably update them in the next few hours when I get internet back properly! PPS I've managed to write out ugly duckling chapters all the way up to Chapter 11 so should have lots of updates to make up for the lack of them over the past week)**_


	8. Chapter 8 - The Rally

**(**_**AN – Thank you to all you lovely people who continue to read this story! Thank you for reviewing. It honestly brightens up my day when I see a review! Ok, so I'm still on my second week of holiday, I'm beyond chilled so not being as diligent with my grammar checks. Please forgive me, normal service will resume shortly haha!)**_

**Chapter Eight – The Rally**

Eponine splashed the cold water onto her face and arms. She combed her fingers through her hair trying to make the best of untangling it without much success. Azelma sat on the mould infested excuse for a bed that they shared, her legs were drawn up to her chest and her arms were wrapped around them.

"And it was definitely him, the same boy." she asked.

"Yes, but he's not a boy anymore he's a man." Eponine had filled her sister in on the details of her

meeting with Enjolras, but not about his obvious rejection of her.

"Was he handsome? He was a pretty child. Didn't you say his mother looked like an Angel? I bet he is handsome." Azelma answered her own questions and fired a new one at Eponine "Is he as handsome as Marius?"

Eponine rounded on her sister, "Leave it out 'Zelma, what's with you and the hundred and fifty questions?"

Azelma just giggled. "If he is friends with Marius then you will see him again won't you and you can be friends again like before."

Eponine sighed, she hadn't thought of that, "Azelma, look what's become of me. He is hardly going to want to know me anymore. We are not children like we used to be and honestly I don't think he has forgiven me for all the horrible things I said to him. I doubt he will even do more than nod at me if he saw me again. The only reason he even got stuck talking to me a second time was because he felt he had to _save_ me from those men." She rolled her eyes at the last part.

Azelma stood up from the bed and crossed the room towards her, she wrapped her arms around her sisters waist and rested her head on her shoulder singing sweetly into her ear,

"_And you will keep me safe, and you will keep me warm,_

_And rain, will make the flowers grow."_

The song Eponine used to sing to her and Gavroche to cheer them up when they were small. Eponine smiled.

"Things are never as bad as they seem 'Ponine." Azelma squeezed her one more time before letting go. "You stay home today Eponine, I will go out and get Papa's money."

Getting Papa's money was the term the girls used for the pickpocketing that their father expected of them. At least ten _francs _per week or face punishment and today was Friday.

"How much have we brought in?" Eponine asked.

"Seven"

"That's three to make up."

"I will do it." Azelma was in earnest, Eponine knew but it wasn't going to happen.

"You know as well as I do that you have absolutely no skill. You are too sweet to pickpocket you feel guilty and then you get caught." Eponine shuddered as she remembered the last time 'Zelma had tried to help and ended up incarcerated for a month.

"Eponine please…"

"No 'Zelma it will be much easier if I just do it myself."

As it was the streets were surprisingly busy that day and Eponine made her way through the crowds with ease. People were bumping into each other constantly which made her hands go unnoticed. She had two _francs_ so far, one more to go. She was careful about who she targeted, making sure she stuck to people who looked like they could spare the change. What were a few _sous_ to them was the difference between being beaten and not being beaten for her and more importantly 'Zelma.

The sounds of shouting and chanting from the next street caught her attention. Her work momentarily forgotten she made her way towards the sound. A large crowd of people had gathered in front of General Lermarque's House. She gasped at first, thinking perhaps he had died already? She noted the way the crowd had blocked the street causing a row of carriages to come to a standstill adding to the chaos. She spotted Gavroche, the little terror, running on top of them and jumping in and out of the windows shouting to the laughing group of children that followed him.

"Gavroche" she cried, but the boy didn't hear her.

What was going on? She had a small frame and couldn't see clearly from the back of the crowd so she pushed her way further forward and then she saw them. Marius and Enjolras, she looked up in despair, what did the pair of them think they were doing?

"Where are they?" Enjolras cried "Where are the leaders of this land?"

"Only Lermarque speaks for the people, and he is dying." Marius flung his arm up towards the house behind him.

"With all the anger in the land" Enjolras chimed in, as perfectly timed as if they had been singing a song. "How much longer will this be allowed to continue, when will we stand up for ourselves?"

Eponine stared at them both, surely they were not serious. Good God, they were truly planning to go through with this revolution.

As she watched them rallying the people she couldn't help but compare the two men standing side by side. Both men were tall but Enjolras was the tallest. Both were obviously dedicated to their cause but whereas Marius looked slightly nervous and his eyes shifted about as if on the lookout for trouble Enjolras eyes were like fire and he stood defiantly as if he was daring anyone to disagree with him. He certainly still favoured his mother, but what came across as unearthly beauty in her was the handsomeness of a mythical Greek God in her son. She looked back to Marius, admittedly, his school boy good looks were overshadowed by Enjolras but he was kind and sweet and Eponine would never forget the first time she had met him. He had moved in next door to them at the old flat in Gorbeau House. It had been his bourgeois clothes that had caught her attention for no other reason at the time than that they reminded her of her old friend Enjolras. When she had started talking with him he had been so kind she ended up pouring her heart out to him, telling him everything including how her family had slept under a bridge the previous winter. He was so sweet she had no choice but to fall in love with him. He always had time to talk to her, he was the only person in her life who didn't take advantage of her in some way and he was always the highlight of her day.

"When will we cut the fat ones down to size?" Enjolras was crying from where he stood. Suddenly Gavroche jumped up onto the platform next to Enjolras and whispered something in his ear. Eponine followed their joint gazes and saw Inspector Javert approaching. The crowd began to disperse and Gavroche jumped down from the platform followed by the others, he made his way to scurry past Eponine but she caught his arm. He looked up wildly but seeing that it was only his sister his face softened.

"Ello 'Ponine." he grinned.

"Gavroche, what are you doing hanging around with these troublemakers?"

"What, you mean your old best friend and new _boyfriend?_" He laughed.

She raised her eyebrows at him in caution. "Don't you go getting involved in anything you shouldn't Gavroche Thenardier."

"Shh, 'Ponine, don't tell the whole world." He went to move on but she stopped him with a shake of her head.

"Not that way, Papa will be waiting with his gang, they are doing their usual con."

"With the fake baby?"

She nodded, she should have reported in half an hour ago, she hadn't made up the three _francs_. She would be in trouble for that anyway so one less wasn't going to hurt, she pressed a coin into her brother's hands.

"Make sure you eat something alright."

He reached up to loop his arms around her neck, she bent towards him and he pressed a small kiss on her cheek.

"You're the best 'Ponine."

She smiled at him as she scampered off.

She should have headed straight to her father but she spotted Marius walking off ahead and hurried her steps to catch up with him.

"Hey Monsieur, what's new with you? Planning to overthrow the government I see." Her heart leaped as he turned round and smiled at her, grasping her elbow lightly as they walked.

"Eponine, How are you? Have you recovered from your shock yesterday? Who would have thought you and Enjolras knew each other? Everyone's been asking Enjolras about it but he won't say anything."

Her heart dropped, so it was as she thought, he was defiantly ashamed to have been associated with her, she kept her smile carefully in place and changed the subject looking at Marius slightly battered coat.

"I see you're still pretending to be poor. Give it up Marius, we all know your Grandfather's rich!"

"I won't take a _sous_ I've not earned" he said passionately.

"Who needs money with a face like yours," she grinned. "How can anyone resist such charm as yours and not give you exactly what you ask for free."

Marius laughed, "You're such a tease Eponine."

How can someone with two eyes in their head be so blind she thought to herself.

"Eponine, your late, hurry up," her father approached her, taking the opposite arm to Marius and pulling her away from him. "There's a mark we have our eye on and everyone is in their place, come on."

Marius looked at her with wide eyes but she shook her head. "Go along now Marius, stay out of this."

Marius seemed a little dazed as he turned around and walked straight into a blonde girl who had been walking behind him.

"Excuse me." he said.

"No harm done." Eponine heard a sweet voice reply. Her father was pulling her away to stand watch outside of the makeshift hut they were using for their con.

"Montparnasse stay here with Eponine, watch for the law."

Eponine couldn't tear her eyes away from Marius and the girl he was still talking to, the girl was giggling. Eponine realised that the girl wasn't going to be leaving any time soon either because the old man she was with was currently being entreated by her father to come and help a poor babe that hadn't eaten all day, once he was inside the hut the Patron-Minette would take every _franc _he had.

Montparnasse had noticed the direction of her gaze.

"Is that your Bourgeois boy?"

Eponine didn't say anything and Montparnasse began to snigger.

"Looks as if all your mooning about after him has been for nothing" he grabbed her hand "I told you I'm the only one what cares about you 'Ponine."

Eponine wasn't even paying attention to his words. Marius had moved revealing the face of the girl he was talking to, her whole world seemed focused in on that face, the face she had thought she would never see again. It was Cosette. Apparently it was the week for everyone from her past to make an appearance.

Montparnasse left her side at the sounds of a struggle coming from inside the hut behind them.

The old man come running out, his shirt had been ripped in the scuffle he bumped into Eponine slightly drawing her out of her trance, her eyes darted round and she saw Inspector Javert approaching.

"Run for it, its Javert" she cried already beginning to sprint off. She didn't make it far before Marius caught her arm, apparently oblivious to everything else that had just happened except for him bumping into the girl.

"Eponine did you see that girl?" he asked.

"That Bourgeois two-a-penny thing."

"Eponine, she was beautiful, she was an angel. I am lost without her."

Eponine felt her heart sink a little bit deeper with every word he spoke.

"She was pretty." was all Eponine could manage, it was true, Cosette had looked beautiful, Eponine looked down at herself, their lives had come full circle.

"Eponine, can you find her for me?" His eyes were so pleading she couldn't ignore them.

"Got you all excited now have I?" She asked, unable to resist the opportunity to flirt with Marius even now. "What will you give me if I find her do you suppose?"

Marius reached into his pocket to retrieve his wallet. Eponine placed her hand on his arm to stop him. "No, Marius. How could you think that was what I meant?"

"Eponine, you will find her won't you?" he cried stuffing his wallet back into his pocket and looking at Eponine with eyes that melted her breaking heart.

"Yes" she whispered, feeling like the light in her world had gone out.

He took both her hands in his "Eponine you're a top girl. The best friend a guy could ask for."

She managed a weak smile in return before she turned around a left him. Ironically, she thought, this was a pattern in her life. Everyone who she cares about abandons her sooner or later.


	9. Chapter 9 - The Hour of Fate

_**(AN – I know some of you have been asking for more Enjolras POV so I just wanted to say never fear we've got a lot more Enjolras in the upcoming chapters, I hope you enjoy let me know what you think)**_

**Chapter Nine – The Hour of Fate**

Enjolras sat in the Café Musain deep in discussion with Combeferre. Combeferre was as sensitive and Enjolras was sever, he's prospective was usually the first Enjolras sought on all matters, especially the revolution. Combeferre had insights and thoughts on things that would never cross Enjolras' mind and between the pair of them he always felt confident of coming up with a well balanced plan.

Courfeyrac sat across from them but he had not been listening to their conversation for some time. He drew their attention when he began to chuckle, "Someone needs to save Marius from Grantaire and Joly." He said with a smile when he realised they were no longer talking.

"Why?" Combeferre asked curiously.

"He's only gone and met a girl, some bourgeois thing, and he's oohing and aahing about love at first sight. Grantaire's having a field day."

Grantaire, noticing that their attention had turned in his direction couldn't help but bring them into his teasing.

"Enjolras you are there planning the revolution and here," he gestured to Marius "we have our love sick hero. Who needs a night at the Opera this is far better."

The grin on Grantaire's face faltered slightly as he saw the look Enjolras cast in their direction. "Marius, a word, if you please."

Marius got to his feet and followed Enjolras outside.

"What is this about Marius?" He asked the minuet they were out of ear shot of the others.

"A girl a met today, after the rally, you should have seen her she was the most beautiful thing I ever beheld."

Enjolras clenched his jaw, the last thing he needed was Marius going soft on him.

"Marius," he chastised "we are not children. We both know the importance of the cause we are fighting for is higher than any 'love' higher than our very lives themselves. Your lonely soul is of little importance."

"Had you seen her…"

"Who cares?" Enjolras couldn't help but interrupt him "And what about Eponine?"

Marius looked slightly confused as to why Enjolras had brought Eponine into it, "She was there with me when I saw her. She has gone to find the girls address for me now."

Enjolras resisted the urge to roll his eyes, how could Marius be so ignorant. "Do you even know her name?" He asked impatiently.

Marius opened his mouth to answer but closed it again realising that he couldn't. The answer came in a feminine voice from behind him.

"It's Cosette."

Both men swung around to face Eponine but only Enjolras knew the significance of that name and why it was obviously grieving Eponine to even say it.

"Yes, the very same Cosette." Eponine said looking up into his face. Marius did not seem to notice he was too busy repeating his ladyloves name to himself.

"Marius," Enjolras snapped bringing the young man's attention back to the present. He couldn't stand the way Eponine stood there looking completely lost. Marius seemed to collect his thoughts as he grabbed both of Eponine's hands.

"You're the best 'Ponine"

Enjolras saw the way that Eponine's eyes lit up at the contact even under these circumstances. He couldn't understand how the girl he knew could come to have such adoration for Marius, who, although a very good friend of his, had more than a significant tendency to be an idiot.

"Will you take me to her?"

"Yes." Eponine barely whispered as Marius began to pull her by the hand.

"Wait, Marius, I need to speak with Eponine first."

Both turned round and shot him irritated glances. He was surprised on Eponine's part, he had said it to try and spare her the pain of taking Marius to Cosette.

"I will wait for you inside," Marius said "come and find me when you are finished."

She nodded.

Enjolras waited until Marius was inside before he spoke.

"Give me the address I will take Marius there." He didn't have time for this nonsense but he would do it to spare her the pain, after all they were old friends and he had cared for he like a sister when they were young.

"What? No!" she exclaimed backing slightly away from him, Enjolras was surprised this was not what he had expected her to say.

"You mean you want to take him there?" He asked, disbelievingly raising an eyebrow at her.

"No." She looked angry.

"Then why will you not allow me to do this for you?"

"Because he asked me to do it." She said pressing her hand to her heart and looking at him as if it should all make perfect sense and he should ask no further questions.

"Eponine don't be foolish."

"I. Am. Not. Foolish." She cried.

A memory flashed through his mind, the last time she had said those words to him, the last day they had spent together in Montfermeil he could feel his temper getting the better of him again.

"You are a fool if you take Marius to that house, to a girl who he claims to love after having met once. To a girl who his falling in love with is ten times worse for you than if it had been any other girl in Paris. You are a fool, Eponine, for allowing yourself to be devoted to Marius who is also a fool and has never looked twice at you!"

Eponine winced as if she had been physically struck. Her eyes widened and to Enjolras' dismay brimmed with tears which she quickly blinked away.

"Eponine…" he began.

"No, I've heard more than enough from you!" She shot at him "You've made your feelings abundantly clear."

Enjolras frowned he didn't remember stating any of his feelings.

"Let's just be honest with each other. We have met again and that was lovely but we are no longer children so I think it's best if from now on we keep out of each other's way."

"Fine." he said plainly, if she was childish enough to not want anything to do with him just because he had told her the truth about Marius, which she needed to hear, then he had no wish to be friends with her either.

"Fine." She repeated as she marched in to the Café Musain.

Enjolras followed slightly behind her, she was already on her way out again with Marius by the time he reached the top of the stairs. She would have left directly but Gavroche came scampering in ignoring his sister and rushing towards Courfeyrac.

"Gavroche!" she called after him in vain.

"Listen everybody." Courfeyrac called to all present, the talking and laughing that had moments before filled the Café Musain came to an immediate halt. Enjolras could hear his own heart beating in his ears so loud he was sure it would distract the others. He held his breath and waited for Gavroche to make his announcement. Somehow, he just knew that this was going to be a pivotal moment in his life.

"General Lermarque is dead!" The boy shouted.

Enjolras watched the news strike across the faces of all his friends. He saw the mixture of excitement, determination and fear. He knew his time had come, he had to build of the first two and appease the latter.

Jumping up onto a table the words started to flow without him having to think about it. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, this was it, this was what he had been waiting for, this was his time to show his worth and make his mark on France.

"Lermarque," he cried "the people's man is dead. This is the hour fate has ordained for us to act! On the day of his funeral the people will be out in their masses. His death with start a flame of rebellion in their hearts, it is our job to kindle that flame until it is a roaring fire of revolution! This is a turning point in the history of France. This is our moment! Let us have the courage to welcome it with cheer!"

The men around him responding by cheering.

"Let us take to the streets with no doubt in our hearts!" he cried, to which they responded with a louder cheer.

"They will come" he declared "when we call!"

"When we call." repeated Courfeyrac to more cheers

"Vive La France." cried Combeferre.

"Vive La Frace! Vive La France!" The men around him chanted.

"More drinks." cried Grantaire, for once Enjolras was too caught up in the moment to rebuke him.

In spite buzz of excitement which was palpable in the Café Enjolras found his eyes wondering to the spot where Marius and Eponine had been and they were gone.

~X~

Marius grabbed Eponine's wrists and spun her round as they made their way through the streets of Paris. For a split second her sadness was forgotten and she laughed out loud. But then he let go and walked a few paces ahead of her and she remembered why she had been upset in the first place because she was leading Marius to her own doom. She was well aware that if she continued with him down the street they would shortly be at Rue Plumet and once they were there all hopes she had ever entertained for herself and him, all her dreams that kept her sane, that she clung to when her father hit her or Montparnasse kissed her would be gone forever. She wasn't entirely sure how she would carry on without them.

Marius was talking excitedly as they walked. She did not make any attempt to listen to his words as she knew they would only hurt her. What I would give for him to be that excited over me she thought with a slight shrug. Her head and her heart both urged her to turn back now before it was too late but her feet kept walking. She imagined herself dressed as a bourgeois, imagined that her family had never got turned out of their inn, she could see herself in her pretty bonnet and fine dress. Then Marius would perhaps have looked twice at her. Enjolras would never have been able to say he hadn't, not that he would have said it to her because he would not have been ashamed to know her and they would have still been friends. The thought caused her images to dissolve around her, she realised that she was upset not just because of Marius but because she wanted to be Enjolras' friend again. She wanted to be the little girl who had bossed and teased him again, she wanted to run and laugh with him like they use to. To hear his fears and tell him her own, but it could never be that way anymore.

She felt a lump form in her throat as she recognised the fancy iron gates that they were now standing before. She did not wish to speak as she was worried her voice would give away her true feelings so she simply pointed towards the house that she had followed Cosette to earlier that day.

Marius did not stop to ask questions he had already seen Cosette and Cosette had already seen him. They were walking slowly towards each other as if sleepwalking each certain of their inevitable destination. Eponine melted back into the shadows and watched.

Cosette had grown beautiful under the protection of the gentleman who had taken her away. Her heart shaped face was currently tilted up towards Marius, moonlight setting off her features perfectly. Her large blue eyes were no longer full of fear as they had been when they were children. Her rosy lips were no longer downturned and trembling but smiled shyly as she stared into Marius face. Eponine wanted to be happy for her, she had gotten away from the cursed Thenardier's just in time she had avoided the fate of Eponine and Azelma and Gavroche. But a bitter jealousy was rising like bile in her throat, the injustice of it all was causing her heart to twist in her chest. What was it that made Cosette so special, first Enjolras when they were children, then the man who came to take her away and now Marius? What was it about Cosette that captivated people and drew them towards her when they couldn't seem to get away from Eponine fast enough?

And why did it have to be Marius, the only thing Eponine had wanted. Cosette could have had anyone but she had to want Marius. Was it fate because she had been cruel to Cosette as a child when she had known no better?

Eponine braced herself against the wall of a nearby building and slid down onto the floor watching Marius and Cosette. With every word they whispered to each other she felt a coldness spreading through her veins.


	10. Chapter 10 - The Corinth

_**(AN – Hello lovely people! I once again have to apologise for not updating quicker, I've been really sick with the NoroVirus! Not fun! Also sorry it's only a short chapter, again, blame the sickness. Thank you to TcEm who reviewed every chapter of the story so far makes my day when I read peoples reviews. Anyway, on with the story, I hope you enjoy**____**…)**_

**Chapter Ten – The Corinth**

She had tired quickly of watching Marius and Cosette but she had only managed to move far enough away that she couldn't see them. Even now she couldn't fully leave Marius. She tried to use her imagination to escape reality but it didn't work the way it usually did so instead she searched back in her mind to happy memories of summers in Montfermeil.

Her attention was brought back to the present by the sound of approaching footsteps. She pressed deeper into the shadows she used like a shield. The face of the man approaching was one she knew, Montparnasse, what was he doing here? She would have simply let him pass but it struck her as strange that he was so far away from his usual patch. Her curiosity got the better of her.

"Montparnasse." She whispered stepping out from the shadows.

"Eponine," he cried. "Thank goodness you spoke, a moment later and I might have slit your throat."

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing Eponine." He said, his grey eyes narrowed suspiciously at her, his dark hair hidden under a cap. "Does your bourgeois live around here?"

Eponine didn't answer, she simply stared him levelly in the eye, hopefully if she kept him talking long enough he wouldn't walk round the corner straight into Marius.

"We got a job here Eponine," he conceded. "Your Papa set it up. You know the old man that got away from us yesterday. Apparently your Papa knew who he was, reckons he owes him to so we made a plan to rob his house."

A wave of panic rushed through Eponine. If Montparnasse walked around that corner and into Marius, it didn't bare thinking about, she had to stop him.

"Parnasse-" She began, but it was apparently all the invitation he needed, he pushed her back into the wall she had previously been leaning on and pressed a crushing kiss to her mouth. Marius, the things I do for you, she thought. As if he could sense that her full attention was not on him Montparnasse bit down hard on her lip, she winced as she tasted blood in her mouth.

"Montparnasse." She heard her father's voice hiss. "Who is this hussy?"

"It's Eponine, don't you recognise your own brat." Brujon laughed.

Montparnasse stepped aside and Eponine realised that Claquesous and Babet were following closely behind her father.

"Papa!" she cried, knowing that distracting Montparnasse would not stop anything if the whole Patron-Minette was here.

"Get out of the way Eponine. What has gotten into you tonight?" Her father pushed her roughly aside.

"She's going soft, too much time spent around that student. You're not doing your job properly 'Parnasse, need me to give you a hand." Claquesous laughed, earning him a shove from 'Parnasse. Eponine ignored them both and stood in front of her father.

"I know this house," she said, desperation causing her words to flow a little too quickly. "I know the old man and his daughter that live here, they live simply lives, there is nothing worth stealing here."

Her father struck her across the face sending her head snapping backwards.

"That's enough of your cheek little mademoiselle," her father sneered.

The Patron-Minette continued towards their target, Eponine's head was whirling, she had to think of something or Marius would think she was in on this.

"I'll scream," she shouted, drawing the attention of the five men. "One more step and I'll scream." she threatened again in a lower voice.

"Control the girl Thenardier, we haven't got time for this." Babet snapped.

"If you scream," her father threated, "then I will give you something to scream about."

They were turning away from her again, left with no choice Eponine hurled in a breath and let out an ear piercing scream that shattered the dark night for what seemed like an age before it was cut off by a swift punch to the gut from Montparnasse.

"What did you do that for Eponine?" He screeched, pulling her back into a standing position.

"Montparnasse, leave her for now, we need to split." Babet shouted. The members of the Patron-Minette ran past her. Only her father stopped to grab her by the chin.

"You'll regret this Eponine." He whispered savagely, planting one final blow onto her already sore cheek before running off into the darkness.

She remained where she was for a moment, catching the breath that had been snatched from her body by Montparnasse's blow, her head was dizzy. She wiped her arm across her mouth and saw blood. I've had worse, she thought bitterly. Gingerly she took a few steps forwards so that Cosette's house was in clearer view. Marius was no longer there. Cosette still remained in the garden the old gentleman that had bumped into Eponine the day before approached her.

"Cosette, thank goodness I thought I heard a scream." The man cried.

"I screamed Papa, I thought I saw someone but it was nothing."

The old man put his arm around Cosette and led her back into the house.

Eponine turned her steps away as it began to rain. She had not missed the spooked expression on the man's face and now she thought about it he had run from Javert just as fast as any member of her father's gang the day before. That was not usual behaviour for a victim. Perhaps this man had something to fear. I could scare him away, get Cosette out of the picture and then Marius would….Marius would still never look twice at me she thought. As the rain poured down she wandered the streets of Paris, on her own, like usual, she got as far as the Corinth wine shop before she sat on the floor and finally allowed the tears that had been building all day to flow.

~X~

Enjolras was trying hard to study the map in front of him. He had not said one word to Marius since the young man had re-entered the café. Marius and Eponine were as bad as each other, both fools blinded by love.

Marius was currently extoling the virtues of Cosette to anyone who would listen. He was being encouraged by Jean Prouvaire who every now and again paused to jot some expression that Marius used down in his notebook, no doubt to be later used in one of his poems.

Ignoring the impulse to ask Marius why Eponine did not return with him he turned his eyes back to the map before him.

"The Corinth will be the best place for the barricade, what do you think?"

Combeferre and Courfeyrac looked down at the circle he had drawn.

"Not the Café?" Courfeyrac asked.

"It is a good 3 miles away from the path the funeral procession is most likely to take." Enjolras answered indicating the line he had drawn on the map, "Once we start the spark of revolution we need to move quickly, we will only have a limited amount of time to build the barricade before the National Guard are alerted."

"Speed is of the essence" Combeferre agreed "We need as much of a head start as we can get."

A buzz of excitement filled the air of the café Musain. Enjolras was in his element scarcely able to believe that the time for revolution had finally come. He was so caught up in his preparations that he didn't notice that he was the last one in the café until he was struck by the sudden silence. The owners lived below and often left Enjolras to himself rather than attempt to interrupt him when he was in the middle of his 'studying'. He gathered the papers and books that were scattered about the table around him shoving them into his leather satchel. It was late, and there was much to do in the next few days the most sensible thing would be to go home and get some sleep but Enjolras found himself in the grip of an enthusiasm which refused to contemplate resting. Instead he made up his mind to first take a look around the Corinth wine shop, concluding that it would be less conspicuous to do so now than in the middle of the day.

The Corinth was a cream coloured three story building with pale green wooden shutters. It was situated in what appeared to be the middle of the road on first inspection, but was actually the beginning of a fork for two separate roads. We will have to build the barricade directly in front of the shop to prevent attacks from behind he thought. He continued to walk around the area making mental notes. That alley will be good to store ammunition, Joly can use that building for a hospital, that will be a good spot to place a look out.

Something in the corner of his eye caught his attention drawing his mind away from his plans. He thought he had seen someone moving in the shadows. He turned his eyes to the movement.

"Who's there?" He said taking a step forwards. The shadow in the darkness skirted along the wall moving away rather than advancing towards him. At least the figure wasn't planning to attempt to rob him. It would have been the end of the incident if the figure had not had to dart into a patch of moonlight to continue their flight. He recognised her immediately.

"Eponine."

She was wiping something from her face as she continued to move away, she had been crying. He sighed, she was taking this harder than he thought and even if it was over a fop like Marius he couldn't just ignore that she was upset.

"Eponine." He caught up with her in a few steps. He reached out to touch her arm but thought better of it. She tried to keep her head down but he was standing in front of her now, his breath caught in his throat as he noticed the red welt under her right eye, just as he had seen once before. But this time it was accompanied by a swollen lip. An unexpected rage rippled through him.

"What happened? Was it the men from the other night?" He asked trying to keep his voice calm.

"No," she began to laugh bitterly but the movement must have hurt as she flinched. "They were just fools not capable of any real harm."

"And the person who did this was?"

She shrugged and placed her hand under her eye "I am used to it. This will be gone by morning."

"You didn't fall did you?" He asked, the only question he wanted to know the answer to at that moment.

"Fall?" She looked confused.

"The last day in Montfermeil, you said you fell but you didn't, did you?"

"No."

"Who was it?"

"My father."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, inwardly cross at his younger self for not realising at the time.

She shrugged again "Would it have made any difference."

"Yes," he saw the way her eyes widened at his response. "I don't know how but it would have. I wouldn't have left you if I had known."

Considering it was the first conversation they had managed to have as adults that hadn't resulted in some sort of argument or accusation being thrown he felt incredibly awkward. Like he was far too aware of his own limbs and how they just hung loosely at his side not really being of any use to anyone. The silence between them was so obvious that it seemed to coat the air itself.

For once, the great orator wasn't exactly sure what to say. Her behaviour when she was a child made more sense now but if that was the case why had she still abandoned him? Did she really think it would have made no difference, is that why she ignored his letter?

"What are you doing here?" She asked in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

"Walking" he replied.

"Obviously" she laughed at him rolling her eyes, reminding him for the first time of the little girl he had known.

"This is a potential site for our barricade."

"You really plan to go through with it?" She asked her head slightly tilted.

"Yes, nothing is more important than the freedom of France" he said proudly.

She sighed "You always have been far too serious, serious boy."

"Perhaps, I have been told that before." He half smiled at her.

"I should be going." She started her usual trick of backing into the shadows.

"Would you like me to walk you?" He asked, not wanting to leave her out alone but at the same time not really wanting her to go home now he knew the truth.

"No, thank you." She smiled at him as she walked away.

Perhaps he should have followed her, but she had not asked him too. He turned his mind back to the matter at hand, revolution and continued his walk around the Corinth.


	11. Chapter 11 - Letters

_**(AN – Wow! Over a hundred followers and reviews! Thank you guys so much! I love you guys more than Javert loves the stars!)**_

**Chapter 11 – Letters**

Three days until revolution, three letters arrived addressed to Enjolras. The first was the usual short letter that he was used to receiving from his father, with only one extra sentence saying that he had heard rumours of rebel makers amongst the students of Paris and he trusted that his son was not involved. Enjolras scoffed as he placed the letter at the back of the draw where he kept all his letters from his father. He truly did not know his son at all if he could doubt his involvement.

The second letter, to his surprise, was also in his father's hand.

_Dear Marcelin,_

_I write to inform you that your Grandfather died last Tuesday._

_There is no need to return for the funeral, it will be held before you receive this letter and I shall not be attending._

_Yours and Co_

_Henri Enjolras_

Enjolras held the letter away from him and looked out of his window onto the Parisian street below. He waited to feel something, something that he ought to feel on the death of his grandfather but found nothing. Maybe he truly had become the Marble Man as Grantaire liked to call him.

Enjolras recollected the third letter he had received. He turned it over realising that he did not recognise the hand. He broke what was an official looking seal and read the letter twice before the words formed coherently in his head.

_Monsieur Enjolras,_

_Forgive me the impropriety of writing to you so informally before we have been introduced. I have the privilege of knowing enough of you to feel we are old acquaintances whilst you know nothing of me._

_I was a dear friend of your late Grandfathers and also his attorney and executor of his Estate due to the circumstances of his break with your honourable Father._

_It is of utmost importance that we meet to discuss this matter at your earliest convenience. Please could you inform me by return when you will most likely be able to meet me in Montfermeil._

_Yours faithfully_

_Jacques Du'Lis_

Enjolras took out his fob watch as if it had somehow developed the ability to tell him more than just the time, he shook his head ignoring his impulse to go. Although Montfermeil was only a half a day's carriage ride at best it would require him to be out of Paris for a minimum of two days leaving him one day to prepare for the revolution. Impossible and there would certainly be no time in the near future. Although he was not fully certain of exactly how events would take shape after the monarchy was over thrown he was sure there would be no time for such trivial matters as his Grandfather's estate. With this thought in mind he sat down and composed his reply.

~X~

Eponine watched Marius's pen scratch across the paper as he sat across the table from her. Her head resting on her hand she took full use of his distraction to stare undisturbed at his face, memorising each and every freckle aware that the closer he got to Cosette the further he would slip from her.

"Eponine," he said suddenly looking up causing her to quickly pretend she had been examining the tips of her nails.

"Yes Marius."

"Do you think that, 'When I am near you I feel as if I am at one with the God's and heaven is near' is over the top?"

"Not at all." She replied, meaning yes completely, she will probably think you some kind of lunatic. She couldn't suppress her smile at the thought.

"I shouldn't be much longer Eponine and then you can deliver it for me."

"Whoa- When did I agree to that?" Eponine asked incredulously.

Marius did not notice he had bowed his head back over his letter intent on his declarations of love. Eponine soon became lost in her own thoughts once again.

"Marius," she said some time later causing the boys head to jolt up. "Do you think you will really go through with the revolution?"

Marius took a cautious look over his shoulder, noting that Enjolras was not yet at the café.

"Well," he whispered none the less "it's not that I am not dedicated to the cause Eponine, I am. It's just that, have you ever thought you knew what was right and what was wrong only to suddenly think that perhaps you have it all wrong."

"I don't spend much of my life pondering right and wrong Monsieur. It is not advisable in my family."

"I do not wish to abandon my friends and yet I feel that with Cosette my life has begun and I do not wish to throw that away either."

Eponine said nothing in reply, afraid that she would betray her true feelings regarding his relationship with Cosette, Marius took her silence for disapproval.

"I have not made up my mind for certain Eponine. I just can't help but wonder what the price we may pay could be."

Eponine couldn't supress the shudder that ran down her spine at the words. Niggling doubts had begun in her since the death of General Lermarque regarding the true motives for this revolution and she couldn't put them to rest.

Enjolras entered the café at that moment abruptly stopping their conversation. He cast a glance in their direction before proceeding further into the room.

"Apollo." Grantaire greeted him with a broad grin waving his bottle in Enjolras' direction.

"Do you ever stop drinking Grantaire?" Was all the sardonic reply he received.

"I am simply preparing my breath for the upcoming battle. At this rate by the time of Lermarque's funeral I shall be able to take out an entire regiment with a single hiccup."

Eponine watched Enjolras from the corner of her eye, she felt confused. They had managed a whole conversation without arguing the previous night but somehow the atmosphere felt stranger than ever. She was glad they had managed to come to a sort of truce but now she felt unsure of where she stood. It wasn't exactly as if they were friends, but it wasn't as if they were mere acquaintances either. Eponine found her eyes increasingly drawn away from Marius towards the group in which Enjolras sat with Grantaire, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Jean Prouvaire and Joly as the evening progressed. The young men were obviously having a good time. She could see glasses being topped up, excited faces and laughter. Even Enjolras occasionally cracked a half smile at his friends although he mostly looked like he disapproved of what they were saying. In fact whatever topic they were on now it looked as though he thoroughly disapproved, a slight crease had appeared between his brows, the other men however seemed to find the subject hilarious and were laughing heartily, slapping each other on the back. Their table looked a lot more fun than hers with Marius. She got to her feet, what did she care if Enjolras thought she was a friend or an acquaintance or something somewhere in the middle? She was going to use it as an excuse to approach their table and see what they were talking about.

"You will have to tell us in great detail of your first kiss Enjolras…" Courfeyrac was saying.

"Oh that's easy." Eponine interrupted him as she approached the table. "I can tell you everything, it was with me."

The laughter halted immediately as the men stared at her in disbelief, with the exception of Grantaire who had unfortunately swallowed a mouthful of brandy at that moment and proceeded to choke loudly.

"…when you have it." Courfeyrac muttered the now redundant second half of his interrupted sentence.

Enjolras remained where he sat his arms folded across his chest glaring at her.

"Enjolras," Grantaire managed to get out between coughs, "you kissed an actual human girl!"

The awkward silence lasted for another second before the boys once again collapsed into even more raucous laughter.

"Mademoiselle," Grantaire laughed jumping up from his chair and indicating that she should take it, "please sit down and tell us everything. Truly, what kind of magic potion did you use?"

"And how terrible was he really." Joly laughed.

Eponine couldn't help but giggle as she sat down in spite of the look that Enjolras was casting them.

"You can all stop calling him virgin lips behind his back now." Combeferre smirked at his friends.

"You call me that!" Enjolras unfolded his arms, obviously affronted by this new level of mockery.

"Did you tell them that you had never kissed _anyone?"_ Eponine asked shooting him an arch look.

"I never said I hadn't I just never said I had and they all assumed the rest. Anyway it's not like it counts we were children."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of Enjolras," Jean Prouvaire laughed, "it's perfectly natural, and happens to all of us. And Eponine is not bad at all you could have done a lot worse."

"So Eponine," Joly turned his attention to her. "What was Enjolras like as a child? Was he always serious?"

Enjolras sent her a look which she was in no doubt was meant to warn her to say nothing, however Eponine was revelling in being the centre of attention and was eager to remain there.

"He was always serious of course." Eponine couldn't help but say. "Although, I do recall one incident involving an attempt to cartwheel on a tree. Oh and the time I convinced him to go scrumping with me, and his favourite game to play was pirates!"

The boys around her laughed harder than before crying 'Aye Aye Captin' at Enjolras and declaring Eponine their new best friend.

"Why have we been letting Marius keep her all to himself?" Joly laughed.

Eponine beamed enjoying her new found popularity. Although as she looked to Enjolras she felt a pang of guilt for selling him out for the cheap laughs of men she hardly knew. They were his friends, she knew they looked up to him because they were willing to fight in his revolution, she was sure all the jesting was good natured but she couldn't help but feel like she had managed to drive an even bigger wedge between the two of them.

"Eponine, the letter is finished." Marius tapped her on her shoulder.

Eponine stood from her chair thankful for the distraction.

"Marius, why must I take it for you?"

"Please Eponine," he implored. "I will look a lot more obvious standing around outside her garden than you."

"Because I'm a shadow?"

"Eponine, I need you." His green eyes pleaded her, Eponine bit her bottom lip as she battled her indecision.

"Ok, Marius," she conceded, "but I'm only doing this for you once ok."

Cosette was already in the garden when Eponine approached the house on Rue Plumet. Eponine spotted her easily sitting on a bench, her feet tucked beneath her. Eponine had no desire to be reunited with Cosette so approached as stealthy as she could quickly slipping the letter between the bars of the fence and turning to leave.

"Wait."

Eponine hunched her shoulders, knowing she had been spotted, she did not turn around.

"Is this from Marius?" Cosette asked.

"Yes." Eponine remained with her back to Cosette.

"Could you please pass this reply to him?" Eponine could tell that Cosette had approached the fence, her voice sounded closer. She turned partially so that her face was still obscured and held out her hand taking the letter from Cosette.

"Wait, don't you want…"

"No," Eponine replied quickly when she heard the clink of coins "Not from you."

If Cosette was puzzled by this she said nothing.

"You cannot truly mean not to give him the letter." Azelma gasped later that evening as Eponine recounted the events to her.

"I do not intend not to give it to him, just not to give it to him straight away." Eponine replied gently tugging at her sister's hair that she was pulling into a plat.

"But Eponine, why not?" Azelma cried turning her head and ruining Eponine's efforts.

"Keep your head still." Eponine admonished. "Because if I give it to him straight away he will write another one and then I will be asked to deliver it and you know I will not be able to say no. I truly do not feel like becoming their messenger service on top of everything."

"When will you give it to him then?"

Eponine fastened a piece of string around the bottom of Azelma's plat "There you are done. As soon as an opportunity arises to give it to him and depart immediately." Eponine lay back on the bed, which seemed luxurious compared to the night before when she had to sleep in an alley while her father's temper cooled.

~X~

Enjolras' eyes shot open, he felt relieved to realise that he was lying in his bed. The images of the dreams that had woken him faded as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of his room.

The same dream that had haunted him for fourteen years, where he was running, but this time he found he was not running to his mother, it was towards a barricade, the people or Paris, the street urchins, the gamins and gamines lined the path he was running down. He had run as fast as he could hoping, as he always did in these dreams, that he would not be too late as he had been before. He had rounded a corner and seen the barricade in the distance but his progress had been prevented by a figure in his way. An old woman with a crocked nose and dark eyes had stood before him.

"Is it enough," she had cried, "to wipe out the past? Is it enough?"

Her words still echoed in his ears as he sat up in his bed. He had no time for doubts, it was just a dream, he told himself, it did not matter. All that mattered was the revolution. It was more important than his life, than anything else. He reached across to his fob watch which sat on the top of a cabinet by his bed. It was two thirty in the morning, a new day had begun. Two more days until revolution.

_**(AN2 – Has anyone seen a video on youtube called Enjolras + Eponine Losing your Memory. If you haven't you should go and check it out now because it's amazing and I can't stop watching it. Honestly it could have been made for this fiction (it wasn't it was published before I started). One of the best Enjonine vids I've seen)**_


	12. Chapter 12 - One Day More

_**(AN – I'm taking some artistic licence with the order of events surrounding the barricade. I hope you don't mind, this is after all AU. Also just want to say a MASSIVE thank you to SusanaLovesRowling who helped me loads with this chapter, you're such a star thank you!)**_

**Chapter 12 – One Day More**

_One day to a new beginning,_ thought Enjolras as he stood in the Café Musain on the day before General Lamarque's funeral. Around him the air buzzed with anticipation as their final preparations were made. He had hardly paused to take breath over the last twenty four hours, for which he was immensely grateful, as it left him with no time to dwell on the unpleasant thoughts stirred in him by his unwanted nightmares. He put it down to nerves, of course.

"I hid the flags like you told me Enjolras," cried an excited Gavroche, running into the café having completed his latest errand.

"And you were not seen?"

"You can count on me, Monsieur."

"Good lad."

Enjolras took out his list and crossed '_hide the flags'_ from his things to do. He raised his eyes to survey the men in the room with him, all busy with their allotted tasks. Looking over his friends who were willing to risk everything for the freedom of France, his eyes stopped as he noted Eponine sitting in the corner preparing cartridge papers and stacking them into neat piles. He was glad she was helping although he was sure it was for Marius's sake more than anything.

Not for the first time, he wondered how she had come to be so infatuated with Marius. Marius was a good man, but he was in no way Eponine's equal. Her wit and vivacity mostly went over the boy's head, and although Pontmercy valued Eponine's friendship, he was blind when it came to her qualities. Marius's view of the world was simple: he saw Eponine as a good girl, but a street girl none the less, a vulnerable girl who deserved his pity. But she was so much more than that. Perhaps it was because he had known her before she came to be a gamine, but Enjolras saw her strength, her determination and her loyalty. The very qualities, he realised, that could lead her to do something stupid, say, following Marius to the barricades.

Once the thought had occurred to him, it did not matter how busy he was, he couldn't fully shake it from his mind. He was relieved when Eponine approached him and asked to speak with him.

"I shall only be a minute," he informed Combeferre before he stepped outside.

Eponine walked quickly once they exited the café; he had to stride to keep up with her. She looked at him sideways as if deciding what to say to him. In Montfermeil, she would never have hesitated to say anything to him. Her indecision now went to further show the invisible barrier that had risen between them as adults.

Eponine stopped abruptly, turning so that she faced him. She tilted her head up so she was looking directly in his eye.

"You said to me that nothing is more important than the freedom of France."

Enjolras wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement—her tone seemed to be accusing. "Correct."

"Are you certain?"

"I rarely say things that I am not certain of."

"What about your life?" she asked.

"My life is of little consequence, there are more important things."

She waved away his words. "What about your friends' lives?"

He should have known this was about Marius. How selfish of her to think of Marius when they were trying to help her and others like her.

"Each man made a commitment to this cause of his own free will; each is aware that there are risks involved. And so are the people who will rise with us tomorrow."

"You truly believe that the people will rise?" she asked in wonderment.

"You know I do. Why must you question everything I say?"

"Because someone needs to, Enjolras! Your single-minded devotion is causing you to be blind to the facts."

"Single-mindedly devoted I may be, but at least it is for a higher cause, not for Marius."

Eponine's mouth dropped open for a second but she quickly snapped it shut again, a faint red flush blossoming on her cheeks the way it always did when she was losing her temper. "You called me a fool once—perhaps you are right. But I will tell you this: you are a bigger fool than me, for only I am hurt in my foolishness. In yours, your friends will go down with you. The people will not rise!"

"What do you know of it?"

"A damn sight more than you!" she gestured down at herself. "Have you not noticed, Enjolras? I _am_ the people. I've been living among them for years. If you had seen all the things I'd seen, I doubt you would be so willing to fight for these people. They do not care for your pipe dreams; they do not have the luxury of deciding whether they would like a monarchy or a republic. All they care for is ensuring they have bread for the next day to feed their families. They're not coming Enjolras—they won't rise. Don't throw your life away!"

"That is not true," he ground out, jaw clenched.

"Enjolras," her tone of voice and posture softened, "do you really think this is what she would have wanted?"

Enjolras felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, he was certain that Eponine was about to walk onto dangerous ground—things that he had not spoken out loud for many years.

"Who would have wanted?" he pretended to be oblivious.

"Your _mére_."

"This is nothing to do with her."

"We both know that this has everything to do with her, Enjolras. You forget that I met her. She encouraged you to be good, yes, to help those less fortunate than you. I am certain, however, that she would not have wanted you to risk your life pointlessly. I am sure she would not have wanted you to risk your life at all."

"You meet her once, you did not know her."

"But I knew you. I saw how hard you tried to prove yourself, to be good. I watched what the guilt did to you."

"I never felt guilty," he lied, contradicting his previous statement regarding his honesty. He couldn't help it. Eponine's words were straying dangerously close to a truth that he wouldn't even admit to himself. He didn't like the fact that if she was correct, it would belittle the worth of the cause which he was willing to die for.

"Doing this," she said breaking the silence that had settled between them, "is not going to bring your mother back."

"This has nothing to do with me. You would do better not to speak of things which you do not understand."

"Fine," she snapped, her patience leaving her, "you carry on down your path to martyrdom but don't expect peace of mind to be waiting for you at the end of it. And don't say I didn't warn you."

Enjolras was no longer listening as he strode away from her. He stopped and turned around to face her once more. "Don't you even think for a second about coming tomorrow."

"I wouldn't dream of it, I don't want to die for nothing!" she cried.

Enjolras re-entered the café minutes later. His return was awaited by the Amis to give them the final run through of their positions and roles at the funeral tomorrow. Enjolras tried to shake off his frustration at Eponine, but her final words would not stop ringing in his head.

~X~

Although she did not re-enter the café, Eponine couldn't bring herself to wander far from the Musain that evening. From the street corner she watched the lights glowing out of the building's top windows as if the Café itself had become a beacon of hope shining across the dark Parisian streets. Its lights were as bright as the boy's dreams, and the streets just as ignorant to it as the people were of its members.

It wasn't that she thought they were wrong, she didn't. She knew that Enjolras really believed that France should be a republic and that he truly wanted all men to be equal. She knew that his ideals would make the world a better place, but he couldn't see that he was being motivated by the need to prove himself. This need had been ruling him since he was a child and stopping him from thinking logically about the best way to bring about the changes he so craved. It hurt her heart to know that the boys up there in the café would be betrayed tomorrow by the very people they were trying to save. Eponine was not one to pray but she found herself squeezing her eyes tight and asking God for the people of Paris to rise behind the boys.

She was tired and longed for her bed, but she just couldn't leave the boys to plan their revolution in vain. Enjolras, Marius and the others whom she had only gotten to know in the past few days—she felt like an invisible tether was binding her to them as she kept a silent vigil that night, watching for the law without them realising, just in case someone alerted the authorities of their plan.

And then there was Marius. She had honestly never believed he would actually go through with the plan, even if the others did. From all her conversations with him, he was not as committed to the cause as the other boys, or so she had come to believe. But today, he had prepared along with the rest of them. As she watched from her hiding spot and night drew further in around the café, he still hadn't appeared. It began to dawn on her that he was actually going to go through with it after all and she still had his letter. She couldn't allow him to go the barricade without giving it to him.

She was not sure what time it was when figures began to trickle out onto the street. As she had done so many times before, she called out to Marius as he passed by her. He approached her from the group of students as he always had, and his friends shouted and waved to her, all except Enjolras, who said nothing and soon retreated with the others, leaving her alone with Marius.

"Hello 'Ponine," he greeted with his usual broad grin. He hesitated slightly as he saw the crumpled letter in her outstretched hand. "What is this, Eponine?"

"It's from Cosette."

Almost too hastily he took it from her; Eponine watched the delight that sprang into his eyes as he broke the seal. It lasted for only a fleeting moment before his eyebrows knitted together in concern. Suddenly the freckles on his face seemed more prominent that ever, and Eponine realised it was because his face had been drained of its colour. His eyes shot up, boring into hers with an intensity she had never seen before.

"When did you receive this?"

"Yest-yesterday, no, no it was the day before yesterday," she stuttered.

"Why did you not give it to me sooner?"

"I…" she began, but found she had no answer.

"She's gone."

"No."

"She says here that her father is planning to take her away to England!"

"Perhaps she has not left."

"But I went to her house this morning, she was not there."

Eponine had no idea what to say.

"I thought that perhaps they were just out of town for a few days, visiting friends or something," Marius continued, "but not now, not after this. She has gone, Eponine. It is too late to stop her. How could you not have given this to me?"

Eponine was speechless. It alarmed her to see that tears were springing into his green eyes. "Marius," she reached out to touch his arm but he shook her off. He looked at her, his face speaking a thousand accusations that he could not or would not find the words to speak. "I-I didn't know," she stammered out pathetically.

She should have been glad, she had done the thing she wanted to do most—she had gotten rid of Cosette. But she wasn't; guilt rolled over her in waves and the pain in Marius's eyes filled her with the deepest regret. How could she have been so selfish, not wanting to deliver his letters?

"Now, at least, I do not care if I die tomorrow," he said, more to himself than her.

"Marius, don't talk like that."

"Life without Cosette is meaningless."

"I will fix it."

"What can you do?"

"Please trust me, Marius."

She did not wait for him to respond; her feet pounded on the pavement below her. She had to get to the house on Rue Plumet and somehow make amends for what she had done to Marius. She had realised as he had spoken that his love for Cosette was equally fervent as hers for him, perhaps even more so. If Marius was separated from Cosette, it would cause him to be as lonely and lost as she was, and that was something she had to prevent if she could.

She skidded to a halt in front of the now familiar iron gates of 55 Rue Plumet. She scaled them with ease; her work with her father was in her favour for once. She raced up to the windows and peered inside. The rooms were indeed empty as Marius had suggested, but Eponine's eyes were trained to assess such situations as this and she noted that they could not have taken more than the clothes on their backs. Eponine made her way round the house trying each window pane that was within her reach until she found one that moved beneath her touch. She shoved the window open and climbed through, landing silently on her feet on the other side.

It took her less than five minutes to make a thorough inspection of the property and conclude that there was no way its occupants could have left for England. Their wardrobes were full and they had left money, travel documents and identification papers in their safe. She was sure that they would be back, but—when? There was no knowing whether their return would be only to collect the necessary items to continue their flight. Eponine made her way to the feminine room she was sure belonged to Cosette.

The room was large and the walls covered with a motif of small blue birds. Eponine ran her hand along the elegant white vanity table that sat opposite the room's canopied bed. Her keen eyes noticed the left hand drawer of the vanity was not fully closed. She pulled it open, and amongst the trinkets which filled it were several pieces of crumpled paper which must have been stashed there in a hurry. She pulled out what was obviously the beginning of another letter, although Cosette had got no further than '_Dear Marius'_ before she had been interrupted.

Eponine searched amongst the bottles that littered the top of the vanity table for the pen that Cosette must have used, to no avail. Getting down onto her hands and knees, she scanned the floor. She must have left just as she was writing the letter, for the pen was discarded beneath her stool. Retrieving it, Eponine sat down in the same place Cosette must have been and began to write a letter of her own.

_Dear Cosette,_

_I am a frend of Marius. I hav come to look for yoo becos Marius has discovered yur flight. Yoo must understand, he is in grave danger. He is planing to fight in the uprising that will start at General Lamarque's funeral tomorow, and is in such despare dat I fink he will do sumfink stopid._

_Pleaz, pleaz, pleaz if yoo read dis befor tomorow, yoo must get de message to him dat yoo are still in the country._

Eponine hesitated before adding the final line of her note.

_He loves you, Cosette._

The remorse which coursed through Eponine's veins was not appeased by her note. Her heart was heavy as she climbed back out of the window and made her way back to the entrance of Cosette's house.

There was nothing else she could do. It was her fault that he was going into battle with no fight left in him. She couldn't allow him to do that. She had to help, but Enjolras had said that she was not allowed at the barricades, and she was sure that the others wouldn't exactly be thrilled about having a girl there. Plus, Marius was angry with her—how could she keep an eye on him if he wasn't talking to her?

A mind like Eponine's can work quickly when it wants something. A plan had formulated in her head before she had reached her parents' house.

That was how Eponine Thenardier came to be standing among the mourners at General Lamarque's funeral. Dressed as a boy, her head was down but her eyes trailed the members of Les Amis who stood among the crowd. Full of fear and full of dreams, they waited…


	13. Chapter 13 - To The Barricade

_**(AN – Ok, the barricade's, honestly I think this might have been one of the hardest chapters I've written so far let me know what you think…)**_

**Chapter 13 – To the Barricade**

It was the strangest atmosphere: the people stood silently as they waited for the tomb of General Lamarque to pass. It was silent, and yet the air seemed thick with the unspoken. It was as if they were about to burst into song, as if they were standing in the middle of a powder keg. People moved cautiously, waiting for the spark that would start the explosions that they knew were inevitable.

He saw it in the distance—the future was approaching in the form of a funeral carriage. Its progress was painfully slow. The tension in the air seemed to build along with the adrenaline that thundered through Enjolras' limbs, waiting and ready. He looked among the crowd. The faces he recognised looked back to him with a nod; each knew their place. Once Enjolras moved, the rest would follow. He looked into the eyes of those he did not know. Eponine was wrong—the people _would_ rise.

He waited; Lamarque's coffin was almost upon them. From the opposite side of the crowd, he caught Marius's eye. They nodded to each other—the time had come. The carriage moved to block his view of Marius, and Enjolras sprang into action, breaking free from the crowd.

He jumped onto the carriage, climbing to the top and reaching its summit simultaneously with Marius. Courfeyrac ran alongside, passing the red flag of revolution up to Enjolras, who waved it forcefully. Joly and Combeferre jumped onto the front proudly holding forth _le drapeau Français*._ The other members of Les Amis ran around the tomb, and for a horrifying second no one else in the crowd moved.

Then, all at once, the people reacted, rushing forwards and crowding around the carriage. Cries of '_Vive La France'_ could be heard from amongst the crowd. Their planning was finally paying off. The people of Paris were heeding their call!

Their progress was halted by a line of soldiers on horseback. Les Amis had prepared for this. Enjolras handed the red flag to Courfeyrac. Marius was already aiming his pistol when Enjolras took his and levelled it at the soldiers. Their instructions had been clear—they would not shoot first. There was no need for unnecessary causalities.

They waited in silence; neither the revolutionaries nor the soldiers made a move. Then the sound of a shot split the air. Combeferre was the first into action, springing down from his place atop the coffin and running towards the commotion in the crowd. Usually one to keep the peace, Combeferre rounded on the soldiers.

"MURDERERS!" he screamed. "She was an innocent woman!"

He moved aside to show an old lady lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood. She had not even been among those who had joined them—she had been standing on the side of the street. Not for the first time, Enjolras realised how ruthless the armies they were fighting against would be, and he reminded himself why exactly they were planning to fight them.

"To the barricade!" he cried. The now infuriated crowd rushed behind him as he led the way through the streets.

All at once it was happening. Furniture seemed to be falling from the sky. The barricade was rising before his eyes. He rushed in and out of the groups of people, giving directions, helping to lift furniture, telling them where to store the ammunition. His name was called so often, he lost track of who he had spoken to. The barricade was almost finished before he finally had a moment, merely a few seconds, to pause. He looked with awe at the sight before him. Change was finally upon them. A free France was dawning.

Even Grantaire had come with them. This surprised Enjolras. He knew that Grantaire thought their revolutionary ideas were foolish; it had often puzzled him why he even came to their meetings. Perhaps he was wrong; Grantaire was helping just as much as anyone else, the only difference being the bottle he held in his hand. He was drinking twice his usual amount—which might have caused some concern, but Enjolras quickly dismissed it.

In no time at all, the barricade was constructed. Two men had been dispatched: one to see how many other barricades had risen and how they were being organised, and another who had volunteered to spy on the enemy. He said he had served in the army in his youth and was therefore the ideal candidate.

When the commotion had settled down some, Enjolras finally had time to reflect. It looked as if the people really had risen, as he had known they would. He almost wished Eponine was able to see them. He felt bad that he had argued with her—as soon as he had the opportunity, he would apologise. She was sure to forgive him. By the time they next spoke they would be in the process of building a new world that they were beginning today.

~X~

A man was approaching the barricades. Eponine noticed the way the students gathered eagerly to hear what he had to say to Enjolras. Eponine got as close as she dared, keeping her head down so that the rim of her hat shielded her face. The last thing she needed was to be recognised and sent away from the barricades.

It was her fault that Marius was here; she couldn't just abandon him now. She was currently struggling internally over who she needed to stick closer to—Marius or Enjolras. She had watched Enjolras as the barricade had been built, the way he had selflessly helped others, directed them and taking command so easily. It worried her. He was going to be too big a target. If the soldiers looked close enough to realise he was the chief, they would take him out first so that the barricade would crumble.

It didn't help matters that he was so noticeable—he cut a striking figure at the best of times, but today he wore a red jacket and had tied one of the revolutionary flags around his waist. He might as well have hung a sign around his neck saying 'Leader of the Barricade'. She had no idea how she was going to keep them both safe, but there was no way she was leaving.

She took a few steps closer so she could hear what the man was saying, self-consciously tucking a few lose strands of hair back under her cap.

"They will not attack tonight," the man said in a voice Eponine thought she recognised. "They are planning to starve you out and will attack in the morning."

"LIAR!" a high-pitched voice screamed.

All eyes swivelled round to Gavroche. _What was he doing here?_ Eponine was about to go over and scold him, but stopped herself when she realised that it would discredit her disguise. She saw the grin that split her brother's face—a grin that meant he was up to something and enjoying it immensely.

"Good evening, dear Inspector Javert," he laughed.

_Javert!_ Eponine realised, raising her eyes. It was a trap.

She did not pay attention as they tackled Javert—she was racing to the top of the barricade to get a better look at the horizon. She heard them before she saw them—the sound of approaching regimented footsteps.

Her need for disguise forgotten, Eponine turned around to cry out a warning. Below her, the men had already gathered what was happening. Their eyes were directed towards the approaching soldiers. There was a moment of hesitation when no one seemed to know what to do.

"Make ready!" came the cry from Enjolras. At the sound of his voice, everyone remembered their places. Pistols and rifles were distributed, men climbed the barricade to their prearranged positions, with Enjolras placing himself front and centre.

Eponine made her way to a position closest to him with her mind made up. She did not take a weapon for herself, having no idea how to load or fire one. In all honesty, she had no idea what she planned to do; she only knew that she needed to be there.

"Wait for it," Enjolras whispered as the soldiers approached.

Eponine held her breath.

"FIRE!"

All at once, the barricade exploded and the rifle fire was instantly returned. An unfamiliar man to her right lost his footing and fell backwards. The soldiers were climbing the barricade; everything was happening so fast.

Enjolras reloaded and fired his rifle with rapid speed, shooting a soldier who had been aiming at Courfeyrac, but leaving himself exposed to the one that now levelled his pistol at him. Eponine did not even have time to gasp before Enjolras threw himself forwards, using his shoulder and the butt of his rifle to send the offending solider toppling from the barricade. He jumped down, ensuring that the man who had previously fallen at Eponine's right was fine, before shouting instructions as he climbed back up.

Eponine saw Marius in the distance as she followed Enjolras's movements. Her heart skipped a beat as she realised that he was completely oblivious to a soldier who was approaching him. Eponine's eyes flew around to see if anyone else had noticed, but they were all occupied. Marius had turned his back even further from the solider, reaching down to pick something up from the floor. He was in no position to be here. He was obviously not thinking clearly, and it was all Eponine's fault. The weight of responsibility hit her like a knife to the gut. She realised he was probably going to die because she had not given him Cosette's letter. Her feet seemed to move of her own accord. She had no time to think—only to act.

"NO!" she cried as she reached out and pulled away the rifle. She did not even register that she had aimed it at herself until she was blinded by a flash of light.

She was thrown backwards and hit the floor roughly. Her first thought was that her cap had flown from her head, letting her hair fall about her face and revealing her true identity. She saw Marius standing atop the barricade, holding a torch to what she realised was the keg of gun powder he had been reaching for.

"Fall back!" he cried. "Fall back or I will blow up the barricade!"

She did not register what was said after that. She had become aware of a red hot pain in her left shoulder. Suddenly feeling breathless, she placed her hand to the source of her pain. When she pulled it away, she saw that it was crimson with blood—_her_ blood. A sickening, knowing sensation settled over her. She became aware that a different kind of commotion had taken over the barricade; she heard several different men cry out at once.

"What were you thinking Marius?! You could have got us all killed!"

"Marius you saved us all!"

"My life is not yours to risk, Marius!"

And in the distance, she heard Enjolras's voice. "Man the barricade," he sounded so far away, she wondered if he would notice her.

"Eponine, what are you doing?"

She looked up to see Marius standing before her as a few drops of ran splashed onto her face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Her words were harder to form than she had anticipated; her voice was hoarse and barely recognised it. Marius crouched beside her.

"What have you done?" he asked. His face was full of concern, moving her so that she was cradled in his arms. Eponine let out a shaky half sob as she realised that she had accomplished what she came to the barricades to do. Marius must have forgiven her for not giving him the letter. Gently, Marius moved her hand from her shoulder and saw the blood weeping from her wound, turning her white shirt red.

"'Ponine! My God," he cried, pulling her closer into his arms.

"It is nothing."

"You're going to be ok, do you hear me? You will live, you're going to live. If I could cure you with words of love, I…"

"Love?" she cut him off.

"Yes, love," he said, his voice shaking and his face pale and frightened. Eponine let out a sigh. How ironic—with Cosette gone, he had finally returned her feelings, but it was too late. Her time had come and there was nothing to do now but comfort the poor boy.

~X~

It had begun to rain.

"Get the ammunition inside," Enjolras instructed the men nearest him. The soldiers had retreated for now thanks to Marius's quick thinking, but they had to get ready for the next attack.

The bustle around him stilled inexplicably; the silence of a funeral settled across the barricade. People had become distracted; they were crowding around something—or _someone_. Combeferre was standing amongst them, looking truly distraught.

A sickly sweet sound reached Enjolras ears, turning his stomach.

"Now don't you fret, Monsieur Marius. I don't feel any pain."

A voice he knew as well as his own, although it sounded somehow different, was singing a song he had heard many times before.

"A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now."

It was Eponine's song, the one he had heard her sing many times to baby Gavroche in Montfermeil when he had fallen over and scraped his knees. She had even sung it to Enjolras when he had told her of his mother's death.

He pushed his way to the front of the gathering crowd, and would have gone directly to her, if he had not heard Marius's words.

"I'm here, Eponine."

"That's all I need to know." She smiled weakly up at the boy, her hand reaching up to stroke his cheek.

He stopped himself and let her have her moment with Marius, knowing would probably be her last. The thought caused a physical ache in his heart. He turned to Joly, standing beside him, and grasped his elbow so tightly that Joly winced. The look on Enjolras's face must have communicated more than his words ever could have.

"There's nothing I can do," Joly whispered mournfully with a shake of his head.

Enjolras knew he was right, but… how could this be happening? Why had she followed Marius here when he had asked her not to?

"And you will keep me safe, and you will keep me close," Eponine sang, her voice getting smaller.

"No, Eponine," Marius said.

"Let it be."

She looked at peace with her own mortality. Gavroche had hidden his face behind Courfeyrac's coat. Enjolras had spent so much of his adult life trying to protect himself from this kind of pain, and he was woefully unprepared for it now. It would have been easier for him to cope if he had been the one with the bullet wound instead of Eponine. He would have given anything to let his grief show—to shout at the people who gaped at her as she lay bleeding on the floor. He wanted them all to leave her alone; he wanted to take her in his arms and stop the blood. He had not felt anything this strong since the day his _Mére_ had died.

But he did none of it—he was aware that everyone else on this barricade looked to him. If he lost it now, where would they be? Instead he stood there, sadly watching over her like a lone guard, grateful for the rain that disguised the tear he could not stop from rolling down his cheek.

"And rain….will make….the flowers…" her eyes left Marius's face, flitting around her, searching for something until they settled on Enjolras.

"…grow," she whispered only to him, as her eyes rolled back into her head and her body went limp in Marius's arms.

Marius let out an anguished cry and pulled her closer to himself. Enjolras could contain himself no longer as he rushed forwards and began to lift Eponine out of Marius's arms. He couldn't stand to see her there when Marius had never given her enough thought in her life.

He was about to pick her up, when he felt her being taken from him. He looked up, ready to rebuke whoever was taking her away. It was Combeferre.

"It's better if I take her Enjolras," he said. "The people are counting on you."

Reluctantly, he allowed her to be taken away. He sat on the floor next to Marius, his strength deserting him as he watched Combeferre leave with Eponine's lifeless body.

~X~

Combeferre placed Eponine's limp form on the floor of the tavern that they had planned to use as a hospital.

"We fight here in your name," he said in a silent promise to the girl he had hardly known.

He turned to leave a moment too soon. If he had waited a second more, he would have heard her gasp and seen the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

_**(A/N – Admit it, I had you all scared there! I promise I will get the next chapter up as soon as I can.)**_

_*le drapeau Français – The French Flag_


	14. Chapter 14 - Children of the Barricade

_**(AN – Wow this story has gotten quite a few new followers over the past day, hello to all of you, so nice of you to join us, please pull up a chair. There should be one somewhere around the barricade. I'm afraid you have joined us at an inopportune moment as about to battle the National Guard…)**_

**Chapter Fourteen – Children of the Barricade**

The only way that Enjolras could have described the last few hours was just him going through the motions. He had so many times used his dreams of a better France as a way to hide from unwanted thoughts and feelings. It had become the only thing that kept him grounded, his only defence against a world he couldn't control. He used that defence now, fully throwing himself into the work at hand. Anyone who had looked at him would have seen only the leader and not known that, inside, he was anguished.

"You take the watch Courfeyrac, they may still attack again tonight." Turning to face those around him he added, "Keep the faith, more people are coming. I am as certain of it as I am certain that I can see the red flag atop the barricade."

If Enjolras had made that statement a week ago whilst they stood within the warmth and comfort of the Café Musain, it would have been greeted by a stir of approval, perhaps even the odd cheer in return. Today, though, it was only greeted by a glum set of nods, as if they truly wanted to believe him but just couldn't.

Instead, they sat around the cold damp barricade. Enjolras chose to say nothing as they passed brandy and wine amongst themselves. Who was he to deny them what comfort they could find at this time? A few slept, but most were awake, reminiscing on times gone by and laughing about their misspent youth like old men of eighty, rather than the young men that they were.

Enjolras took advantage of their momentary distraction; retreating into the mouth of a nearby alley to the left of the barricade, he finally allowed himself to let down his façade. He rested his head against the cool brick of the wall.

"_What about your friend's lives?"_

Enjolras squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the memory of Eponine's lifeless face as her words drifted through his mind. In the last couple of hours, he had asked himself countless times what he would have done had he known that the term 'his friend's lives' had applied to her.

_Nothing_, he told himself, _the revolution is more important—Patria is more important_. However, the words sounded hollow and false even to his own heart. The truth was that once again, someone was dead because of him. If it wasn't for him, Eponine would be alive right now and not lying in some god forsaken tavern. He could only pray that the feeling that he had led all of his friends into a futile battle was just his grief speaking. Where were the people he had believed in so blindly?

He was glad that he had been spared the task of dealing with the traitorous Inspector Javert. The strange old gentleman had been on hand to take that responsibility from him. Enjolras wasn't sure that he could have killed in cold blood, on top of everything.

He pushed himself away from the wall and supported himself on his own two legs again. He couldn't hide here when people were relying on him, he would go through with this. He owed Eponine that much—he couldn't allow her death to have been in vain.

Returning from his hiding place, Enjolras spotted Marius. He was still relentlessly building up the barricades defences, pain etched across his face. Marius had the luxury of being able to show and act on his emotions.

"Marius, rest."

"How can I?" Marius responded. "She is gone."

Enjolras squeezed his friend's shoulder, thankfully ignorant to the fact that Marius was speaking of Cosette and not Eponine.

Enjolras did not sleep that night—though his eyes were closed, his mind was very much awake, memories of Montfermeil running through his mind.

"_Come on Eponine! I want to get to the fair before it gets too busy!" He pulled her by the elbow, but she did not move. Her eyes were fixed on one of the visiting genteel ladies who was in town for the summer fair. _

"_Look at her parasol. Look at her beautiful bonnet and lilac gloves. How beautiful!" Eponine had effused, eyes shining._

"_Come on. We don't want them to run out of toffee apples."_

"_But I don't want a toffee apple, I want lilac gloves!" she had said, reluctantly turning around and following him._

"_When I am a lady, I shall have all the most beautiful things."_

"_Then you shall be spoilt and rotten and I won't want to be your friend anymore."_

"_No!" she had cried, her hands flying to her face, "I shall have no gloves so long as we can still be friends. We are blood brother and sister, don't forget."_

"Monsieur, are you alright?"

Enjolras opened his eyes and looked into the kind face of Monsieur Fauchelevent.

"_Oui."_

"You looked distressed."

"I was merely frowning in my sleep," Enjolras replied.

"I was certain you were awake."

Enjolras studied the strange man before him. He was about to ask why he had joined them when he was distracted by Courfeyrac.

"Enjolras, the other barricades have fallen. We are the only ones left."

"But there are no more than thirty men here."

"Yes, and against the entire National guard," Courfeyrac uttered grimly.

Enjolras felt his face blanch. It confirmed what he had come to fear over the past few hours—the people had not stirred. He wished Eponine was here, even if it was to tell him that she had told him so.

"Gather everyone," Enjolras said firmly to Courfeyrac.

Enjolras prepared himself for his final speech.

"Citizens, we are abandoned by the people of France. But let us not blame them. They are afraid, they were downtrodden and we have tried to raise them up in vain. I will ask none of you to throw your lives away. If you wish to, you may leave." Enjolras felt defeated as he waited with bated breath to see who would go, but no one moved.

"Gavroche, you must go," Courfeyrac said to the young boy.

"No!" Gavroche replied indignantly. "They killed my sister! I want to fight them! I believe in everything Monsieur Enjolras would say at the Café Musain. I won't give up."

The sight of youngest of them all still prepared to fight for the cause, bravery and determination shinning in his face, had a strange effect on the men of the barricade. Little Gavroche, the street urchin who could not read or write, had, with his few simple words, re-inspired the enthusiasm of the men more effectively than any of Enjolras's clever speeches ever could have done.

The life that had been missing from the barricade returned with even more enthusiasm than it had previously possessed. The students once again took up arms.

"We are low on ammunition," Joly whispered to Enjolras.

"I had it sent inside after the first attack," Enjolras replied, but not soon enough.

~X~

Unseen to the men of the barricade, Gavroche had heard Joly's statement, but not Enjolras's reply. Quick as a fox, he had slipped through a gap in the barricade. He did not hesitate when he saw the soldiers waiting at the other end of the street, making his way forward, boldly grabbing the pouch of ammunition from one of the national guardsmen. Thinking that perhaps this could be the man who had shot Eponine, he bent over and laughed in the man's face.

"That's for me sister."

BANG! A warning shot.

Gavroche assumed they had missed their target and shot a mischievous grin at Combeferre, who hissed at him to return behind the barricade.

"Can't even hit a kid," he laughed, dancing a little jig to mock the guardsmen as he retrieved another bag of ammunition.

BANG! Not a warning, the shot hit its target.

"Gavroche, come back!" cried Courfeyrac, the gun shot alerting him to what was happening. He tried to climb over the top of the barricade, but was restrained by those thinking clearly, who knew it would be suicide.

Gavroche limped towards the next body he had targeted. Retrieving the ammunition pouch, he threw it over the barricade.

"Get back here at once!" Enjolras cried, following Courfeyrac as he scrambled down the barricade and made his way to the entrance on the left hand side, which was partly shielded by a building.

Gavroche began to limp his way towards Courfeyrac, he couldn't, however, resist pausing to turn and poke his tongue out at the enemy.

BANG!

He never got to throw his final insult. Mercifully, his world went black instantly before he knew what had happened. He died thinking that he was having the last laugh.

~X~

They say that when you are angry, you see red. Enjolras had been seeing red most his adult life—the red flag of revolution. The moment that he saw a distraught Courfeyrac, sobbing like a child, cradling Gavroche's little body, he no longer saw red—he saw white, pure white rage.

"You at the barricades listen to this, the people of Paris sleep in their beds. You have no chance! Surrender now whilst you can," came a voice from the other side of the barricade. "Don't throw your lives away."

Enjolras knew that all hope was over for them then. If the ideals he held so close to his heart would not come to be by his hand, so be it. In that moment, as the next words he spoke were formed in his head, he thought only of revenge.

"Let us make them bleed before we die!"

"We will make them pay," said Combeferre, who had never wanted to fight.

"For every man," wept the grief-stricken Courfeyrac.

_And every woman_, thought Enjolras. "And others will rise to take our place, they will see! The people of France will not stop fighting until we are free!"

"Cannons!" came the call from the National Guard the moment they realised no surrender was imminent.

The explosions that had been threatening since General Lermarque's funeral went off at once. In the heat of battle, it is hard to know where to look. Enjolras's senses were overwhelmed, one minute a bang drew his attention to his left; the next, a flash of light drew his attention to his right. The wounded were piling up faster than Joly could tend to them. He looked aghast as Enjolras dragged yet another injured man into his makeshift hospital.

"Enjolras, I can't do this! I would be better out there helping you."

"As you wish, but help this man first."

"Enjolras!"

He rushed towards the sound of his name being called. He made it only in time to see Combeferre pierced three times by a bayonet. Combeferre momentarily raised his eyes towards heaven before dying.

And with that, Les Amis De l'ABC began to fall.

Bahorel would never be late to another lecture.

Feuilly had made his last fan.

Bossuet's bad luck had finally caught up with him.

Courfeyrac would chase the tavern girls no more—his child-like enthusiasm for life had been put out.

Jean Prouvaire's last poem was ripped from his lips seconds before he was shot, "Vive La France, Vive La Republic!"

He saw Marius fall as he was shot, Monsieur Fauchelevent rushing to his side.

He had not seen Grantaire for some time, and was disappointed to realise that he must have left them.

A few of the workers who had joined them were trying to make their way into the Corinth for protection. Enjolras rushed to aid them.

"Stand aside!" he cried, and with a swift kick the door he broke the lock and the door swung open. Enjolras motioned for the men to pass behind him.

"Hide in the roof," he said. He shot what he realised was his last bullet at the first soldier over the barricade.

Once all were safely inside, Enjolras joined them. He would keep the soldiers at bay as long as possible. He placed the barrel of his now useless rifle through the door handle to delay the inevitable entry of the soldiers. Snapping off the butt, he took it into his hands and used it to smash away the flimsy wooden ladder that led up to the second floor of the Corinth.

The stairs removed, he stood above the gaping hole that used to be the entrance to second floor of the Corinth. He had his make-shift club in hand, ready to face the soldiers trying to break down the door.

"Enjolras?"

He turned around to find Grantaire.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was waiting for you."

By the looks of things, Grantaire had drunk himself into a stupor. Enjolras filled him in on the state of things. "The only one of our friends left is me—you must hide on the roof with the remaining workers who joined us."

"I know, Enjolras. That is why I've been waiting for you here. This has always been my plan."

Enjolras had no time to give thoughts to Grantaire's strange words. At that precise moment, the attempts to break down the door were finally successful.

They poured into the building in a furious fervour; they too had seen their friends fall. Enjolras fought valiantly, holding a regiment back with just the butt of his rifle. He did not know how long he would have kept it up if Grantaire had not grabbed him and pulled him backwards.

"That is him!" one soldier cried, pointing to Enjolras. "He is their leader!"

Enjolras dropped his make-shift weapon and picked up a discarded revolutionary flag. He folded his arms across his chest, knowing he had done all that he could.

"Shoot me."

"No!" cried Grantaire. "He is not the leader—I am! _Vive la France!_"

"What are you doing?" Enjolras hissed, turning to his friend as the rifles were lowered at them.

"You must know," said Grantaire gripping Enjolras's hand, "that I have always been a little bit in love with you."

Grantaire still had hold of Enjolras's had when the report rang out. In a last act of bravery or devotion, Grantaire stepped forwards into the line of fire. He took six of the eight bullets that were meant for Enjolras.

The impact of the two remaining bullets along with the force of Grantaire's body being thrown backwards sent Enjolras toppling through the open window, the revolutionary flag still gripped in his hand. He had no time to process that he was not mortally wounded. He thought he was dying as he fell backwards. Then his head struck against the stone wall of the building beneath him and his world went black.

~X~

Eponine woke to a deafening silence. The world focused around her as she struggled to gain her bearings. It came back to her in a flash—her hand shot to her shoulder, confirming that she was still wounded and it had not been a dream.

As her vision became less blurry, she realised that there were people lying beside her. She rolled over, and instantly recoiled from what she realised was the glassy eyed face of Courfeyrac. She sat bolt upright—her world spun precariously around her and she had to grip her knees tightly to prevent herself from falling backwards.

Taking a deep breath, she got shakily to her feet. It was then that she realised Courfeyrac was not the only one there—a whole line of young men were on the floor, and at the end of them was… _Oh dear God_, thought Eponine. Rushing unsteadily forwards, she fell down onto the body of her poor baby brother.

"No, no—no," she whispered brokenly, stroking his blonde hair back from his waxy face. "Oh, Gavroche. Why you?"

Her grief was rudely interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. With a melting heart, she kissed Gavroche's cold forehead one last time before melting back into the shadows.

The footsteps, she realised, belonged to none other than Inspector Javert. Not caring anymore if she was arrested, Eponine jumped forwards as he bent over her brother's motionless body. She stopped in her tracks as she saw him remove the medal he always proudly wore on his chest and pin it onto her brother in a mark of respect. Tears sprung into Eponine's eyes.

Returning to her hiding place, she watched as Javert made his progress through the barricades he had sought to destroy only the day before.

She followed him outside. Something had caught his attention.

Her heart leapt up into her throat. There hanging from the window was Enjolras. Defiant to the last, his hand clung onto the red flag that was spread out behind him. His feet were caught on the edges of the window, his hands flung up above his head. He looked as if he was part of the flag itself—the motif of revolution.

Javert's attention was then arrested by something in one of the nearby alley ways.

The moment he was out of sight, Eponine rushed forwards. She couldn't bear to leave Enjolras hanging there like that; her heart bled for the little serious boy that she had known.

Her senses on full alert, Eponine scanned the area. There was no sign of the National Guard at the moment. They must have retreated to lick their wounds now that the students were defeated. She knew that they would not be gone for long. She feared that they would leave Enjolras hanging there for days, or worse, parade his body about Paris as some kind of warning to others. She couldn't allow that.

Finding the entrance to the Corinth, she found that the stairs that used to lead to the second floor had been destroyed. Going as fast as her spinning head allowed, she rushed outside and grabbed a discarded chair from the barricade, using it to climb through the hole that led to the second floor.

She saw Grantaire's crumpled form lying on the floor next to the window, anchoring the edge of the flag that Enjolras still held. That must have been why Enjolras hadn't fallen completely out.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to Grantaire as she passed him and reached out of the window, grabbing the lapels of Enjolras's red jacket. Bracing her feet against the edge of the wall beneath the window frame, Eponine leant backwards, using her body like a lever to pull Enjolras back inside.

At the last moment, she jumped to the side to prevent herself being crushed by the weight of him as he fell back into the Corinth. She gasped as she heard the muffled grunt he let out as he hit the floor.

"Enjolras?" she said, barely daring to believe her ears as she placed her hand in front of his mouth and felt the gentle stirring of his breath against her palm.

Her injured shoulder protested as she used all her force to roll him over onto his back. She had no medical knowledge, but she could see that blood was seeping across his white shirt, which was obviously not a good sign. What she would give for Enjolras' friend Joly to be here!

The sound of wood snapping outside caught her attention. She risked a peek out the window and saw that a few of the National Guard had returned. She needed to get Enjolras out of there_ now_.

Grabbing his shoulders, she shook him with all her might.

"Come, Enjolras—you need to wake up."

To her dismay, his breathing was becoming fainter, his face whiter.

Growing desperate, she did the one thing she knew had always riled him up as a child.

"Marceline Enjolras, you must wake up this instant," she said, voice coming out a bit shakier than she wished it to.

A small frown creased his forehead.

Placing her good arm under his shoulders, she raised him into a sitting position.

"Stand up, Marceline," she commanded.

His eyes still closed, he raised himself to his feet, still mostly unconscious he leaned heavily upon her small frame.

Her legs shook beneath her. _Please god_, she thought, _just give me the strength to get him out of here, even if it kills me._

Half dragging him, she began to make her way out of the Corinth just as the soldiers decided to make their way in…

_**(AN – Ok before you hate me, I had to watch Gavroche's death so many times for this chapter, it was literally devastating! So I suffered for this chapter to**____**. Because in this stupid country Les Mis is not our on DVD until 13**__**th**__** May and I couldn't find an unedited version of the barricades falling online anywhere I mostly had to go from memory/imagination. Hope you don't mind the result. I'm going to go and sob in a corner now over what I just did to some of my favourite fictional characters. **_

_**I would just like to say a massive thank you to SusannaLovesRowling for all her continued help with this story!**_

_**I know it's a Cliff-hanger, I'm sorry, I will get the next chapter up asap!)**_


	15. Chapter 15 - Broken Marble

**Chapter Fifteen – Broken Marble**

Enjolras' slight cognizance did not last long. Eponine all but dragged him to the entrance of the Corinth, taking his full weight onto her fragile and shaking shoulders. Her heart leapt into her throat as she heard footsteps approaching the door.

"François! Over here," a voice called out.

The footsteps behind the door must have belonged to François, as they stopped their approach.

"François, quickly," the voice insisted. To Eponine's relief, François reacted to the urgency, and she heard him leave. She let out the breath she didn't realise she had been holding. Shifting so that Enjolras's weight rested more securely across her frame, she took what she feared was her only chance.

She stepped outside, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the sunlight. The Corinth was situated at the back of the barricade. Although Eponine could hear muffled voices behind it, she could not make out what they were saying, but any thoughts of escaping that way were quickly removed from her mind.

Her body trembled, violently protesting against its added burden as well as its injury. She stood no chance of getting far, she was sure of that much. She needed to hide somewhere, and quickly. She made slow progress towards the mouth of the nearest alley that ran along the line of shops behind the Corinth. Her heart thumped so violently, she was certain that the sound would alert the soldiers of her presence.

As soon as she reached the cool damp darkness of the dank alley, she let out a sigh of relief. Now she had the advantage—making her way through the back streets of Paris was second nature to her.

For five minutes, she staggered through the dark twists and turns. Every step was like walking on fire. The strain she was putting on her shoulder caused her wound to bleed again. Tears of frustration sprang into her eyes; her arms, as if of their own free will, released Enjolras, allowing his body to slump against the wall.

"I can't do this—you have to wake up." Her voice cracked as tears spilled onto her cheeks.

"We are not far enough from the barricades and I can't carry you any further. Please, Enjolras."

Eponine felt a shadow move behind her. Jumping up, she turned around, wishing she had thought to remove Enjolras's distinctive red jacket. She would not stand a chance of talking her way out of this situation if she was found.

A figure stirred in the distance, hidden by shadow.

"Who's there?" Eponine asked, trying to appear and sound as threatening as she could.

The figure moved into the light and Eponine found herself looking into the most startlingly beautiful pair of eyes she had ever seen. In a mixture of brown and green flecks rimmed with gold, they seemed to gleam. They were housed by oval eyelids and emphasised by thick lashes.

"Are you from the barricades?" the girl who belonged to them asked Eponine in a hurried whisper.

"Why do you want to know?" Eponine asked, stepping into the girl's line of vision, which was trained on Enjolras.

"Is that Monsieur Enjolras?" the girl asked, ignoring the hostile glare she was receiving from Eponine.

"It must be," the girl continued without waiting for an answer, "he is exactly as Joly described." Tears sprung into her beautiful eyes.

Eponine allowed her guard to drop slightly. "You… you know Monsieur Joly?"

The girl nodded her head fervently, pushing aside a wheat blonde strand of hair that fell across her face. "_Oui_, he was my…my…. Please tell me, is he ok?"

Eponine cast her eyes to the floor, "I'm sorry, mademoiselle."

The girl choked back a sob, her dainty hand rising to her throat. "And B-Bossuet?"

Eponine shook her head, "I'm sorry. I saw no one else alive."

The girl pulled the plain shawl that she wore tighter around herself, visibly swallowing a sob. Eponine's alert ears picked up a sound far in the distance. Her head swung around towards it; she had wasted too much time, she needed to go.

She grimaced against the strain on her damaged shoulder as she attempted to lift Enjolras again. To her surprise, her burden suddenly got lighter. She turned to see the girl taking the weight of Enjolras's other side on her own shoulders.

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

Eponine opened her mouth, struggling against her natural defensiveness which told her not to admit to this girl that she didn't.

"Come with me, I live nearby."

Eponine bit her lip in hesitation.

"Come," she insisted. "I wanted to help, but Joly said it was too dangerous. We argued…" her voice trailed off.

Eponine would have hesitated longer, but she was certain she couldn't go much further on her own. She nodded, and the two girls made their way through the streets as fast as their load would allow them.

"Eponine, by the way—that's my name."

The beautiful girl smiled, "Musichetta."

~X~

"Well François, what is your report?"

The young soldier stepped forward as the question was asked.

"There were two bodies when we left, sir, but only one when we returned. The man who had fallen out the window was no longer there."

"And he was the leader, you say." Colonel Pacelet drummed a beefy hand against his desk in obvious impatience.

"He was the one the other soldier's identified as the leader when we entered the room."

"And what was his response to this accusation?"

"He simply told us to shoot him."

Colonel Pacelet raised a bushy eyebrow towards his receding hairline. "And the other man, he then claimed he was the leader."

"Correct, sir."

"And whom do you think was the true leader, François?"

"The man we killed did not seem to be the leader to me, Sir. We never even saw him till we entered the room."

Colonel Pacelet stood and began to pace the room with a sigh. "Thank you, François. You may go."

"But Sir, there is a very real chance that the true leader has gotten away."

Colonel Pacelet sighed; he looked into the face of young François and remembered a time when he too had such youthful vigour, and would have been determined to pursue the true leader and bring him to justice. However, that was many years ago. He had seen enough war and suffering to disillusion him and to bring about the belief that the simplest option was always the best.

"But that would only be if he is indeed the leader, and if he is still alive. Even if he was able to walk away, there is no saying that he did not simply walk off and die somewhere else, so I would not give it too much thought, lad."

"And if he tries to do something like this again, what then?" François cried indignantly.

"We will discourage him by making an example of the man we found alive."

"The medical student?" François asked.

"Yes. Make sure we have his trial set for the earliest available date."

~X~

It had taken Musichetta most of the day to convince Eponine to leave Enjolras's side for a moment.

"I need to be here when he wakes up," Eponine had protested.

"You will be no good to him if you have an infection," Musichetta had admonished firmly. With much persistence, she had finally managed to pry Eponine away.

Musichetta had led her away from the spare room in which Enjolras slept, and through the living area to what was evidently Musichetta's own bedroom. The room was much like the girl—simple, yet elegant. There was a small wash basin and a mirror in the centre. On a chest of drawers, Eponine noted two stacks of books: one pile of popular novels; the other, significantly smaller, of medical journals.

Musichetta noticed her gaze. "Joly's," she said sadly. "He liked to have them on hand in case he needed to diagnose himself whilst he was here. I used to scold him for it." She let out a wistful laugh, then sighed, "I would give anything to have him here now, telling me that the way I scratched my nose meant I was coming down with the plague."

"He was a good man," Eponine said.

Musichetta nodded and pointed towards the dressing screen in the far corner of the room. "I drew you a bath; everything you need should be there. I'll leave you a nightgown and shawl on the side. I'm afraid it will be too big for you, but it will do for now. We can see about getting something more suitable for you tomorrow."

Eponine was shocked by the simple kindness of this girl she had just met. "Thank you," she said. Her words sounded insignificant in comparison to her gratitude.

"It's what Joly would have wanted," Musichetta replied with a sad smile.

Eponine slipped behind the dressing screen, and within seconds she was out of her clothes and in the tin tub that Musichetta had filled with warm water. It had been so many years since Eponine had been able to have a proper bath. She let out a satisfied sigh as her body slipped beneath the water.

The water was cold and practically black by the time Eponine eventually prised herself from the bath. Musichetta helped her bandage her shoulder, but Eponine protested against the girl's attempts to brush her hair for her.

"You can't expect to do it yourself, you can hardly move your arm," Musichetta argued.

"I will manage," Eponine countered.

"I'm sorry—I'm just so used to taking charge and looking after Joly and Bossuet, it's become second nature."

She looked so grief-stricken, that Eponine conceded and allowed the girl to brush her hair, embarrassed by the amount of effort that was required to work out the long held tangles.

"Do you judge me?" Musichetta asked suddenly.

"Whatever for?"

"I am—" she stopped and corrected herself, "I _was_ the mistress of two men. I met Bossuet first, you see. He was lovely, but it wasn't serious. Then I met Joly, and there was no way I could not have loved him. But he was Bossuet's best friend. I didn't want to spoil their friendship, so we compromised, we shared. If that makes me a bad person, then so be it. I wouldn't change it even if I could."

"I don't judge you. I've done more foolish things for love," Eponine said simply.

"For Enjolras?"

"No, no. Not Enjolras."

"I'm sorry," Musichetta blushed, "I just assumed."

"No, it's not like that. We are just very old friends—I've known him since I was five." The defensiveness in her voice made her answer more aggressive than Eponine had intended.

"Oh, well I wouldn't have blamed you either way. He's very handsome."

"Is he? I mean, I know he is, but I've just never really thought about it." She remembered the day she had seen him at the rally outside General Lamarque's house, the fire in his eyes. "I suppose there _is_ something about him."

Later that evening, when Musichetta had gone to bed and Eponine sat in the room where Enjolras was still asleep, she thought more on the conversation.

She looked at his motionless face. He really _was_ handsome; she'd seen it before, but she had never truly noticed it. She found it strangely unsettling.

Guilt shot through her. Marius was dead, and in their last conversation he had admitted feelings for her. _He had said love! _How could she be sitting here pondering whether or not another man was handsome, even if it was only an objective observation? She could scarcely believe that Marius had finally returned her affections, and it didn't feel the way she had imagined it would.

She tucked her feet beneath herself with a sigh and pulled her borrowed shawl more tightly around her shoulders. Seeking a distraction, she turned to Enjolras and began to talk to him as if he was awake.

"Do you remember when I dared you to jump across the brook in the forest, and you didn't make it and fell in? You were soaked," she giggled at the memory, " and you didn't forgive me for the rest of the week. I was always getting you into trouble, and you were always getting me out of it."

She looked long and hard at his face, silently willing him to wake up, but at the same time terrified of what it would be like when he did. She knew him too well to think he would just hop back up and carry on with life as if nothing had happened.

"I don't know if you can hear me, but if you can, there is something I want you to know. I've never really believed in fate, Enjolras; but if I did, I would say there was a reason we have met again now. I've been thinking, and I reckon that I must owe you for all the times you got me out of trouble when we were little. If nothing else, I owe you for all the years that you put up with me dragging you around Montfermeil. So I want you to know, when you're blaming yourself for this later, which I know you will do, I will be here. I'm not going to leave until I know you're ok, because that's what friends do."

He remained silent, and Eponine returned to her own thoughts. Half an hour passed, and her eyelids grew heavy.

"Remember when we played detectives," she said sleepily as the memory floated into her head, "and almost got caught when we found those stage letters? I've often wondered what that was about, who the woman your _Pére_ and _Grand-pére_ were talking about was. I've never been able to shake the feeling that somehow, she was important."

She puzzled over the memory a short while longer, until she could fight her fatigue no more and sleep finally overcame her.

She woke with a start some time later. The crashing of the bedside cabinet falling to the floor had disturbed her sleep. Enjolras sat bolt upright in bed, wild fear sparkling in his eyes.

"Courfeyrac, what's the report?" he shouted.

Eponine stood dumbfounded; he looked straight through her.

"Have the National Guard returned? Combeferre, get the ammunition. Quickly!"

Musichetta came rushing into the room, passing the astonished Eponine and reaching Enjolras's side.

"Relax, relax," she said in a voice both soothing and commanding. "It's over now; you are here with Eponine."

The fear that shone from his eyes began to fade, and nothing replaced it. Eponine watched in shock as the light that seemed to fire him went out. Defeated, he fell back onto the bed, placing a hand over his face. Eponine and Musichetta waited with bated breath, and after a minute he finally spoke.

"It wasn't a dream, was it?"

Eponine finally found the courage to step forwards.

"No, Enjolras, it wasn't a dream."

His gaze flicked over her. "Then why are you here? I watched you die."

"You didn't think you were going to get rid of me that easily, did you?" She smiled, but he did not return it. The darkness in his face caused goose bumps to rise on her arms. He looked as if he had left his soul at the barricade. Perhaps she had only carried a shell home.

"I should be dead," he said bitterly.

"Enjolras, don't talk like that."

His dull eyes fixed on her face. For a second, she thought she saw something glint in them, but it was gone in the blink of an eye.

"How did I get here?"

"I found you when I woke up. I realised you were alive and I took you from the barricade. Musichetta was a friend of Joly's," she saw the way he flinched when she spoke of Joly in past tense. "She found us and said we could stay here."

"You should have left me," he whispered.

"No! How could I possibly?"

"How could you?" he said, his tone growing dangerous. "You should have left me to die or to face my fate at the hands of the enemy. I do not deserve to live when all my friends have sacrificed themselves for my cause. Why should I be the only one not to make a sacrifice?"

"You're upset…" she began, but he cut her off.

"Leave me," his voice was cold as ice.

"Please…"

"LEAVE!" he shouted.

Musichetta's hands were on Eponine's shoulders as she gently began to steer her away. Eponine kept her eyes fixed on Enjolras until she left the room. She was incapable of supressing the shudder at the image of her best friend looking so thoroughly broken.

_**(A/N – A Message from Joly – Joly would like me to say that he is very upset that no one noticed that I didn't list him among the Les Amis that died. In fact he is so upset that he is certain it's bringing him down with the flu!**_

_**Thank you as always to all the new and existing followers, including ChasingYou who has been keeping me smiling with all her lovely reviews!)**_


	16. Chapter 16-Looking Back&Looking Forwards

_**(AN –I'm so sorry about the late-ness, short-ness and all round rubbish-ness of this chapter I've been run off my feet last week!**_

_**A Note from Joly – Joly would like to thank all who did notice that he wasn't dead, he would also like to thank all of you who have been concerned for his welfare, including those who went so far as to PM me begging for his safe return…I may just listen, depends if you read and review Mwa Ha Ha!**_

**Chapter 16 - Looking back & Looking Forwards**

Henri Enjolras cast his newspaper aside with an irritated huff and took another sip of his coffee. The students of Paris had rebelled just as they had threated. The thought that his son had been involved crossed his mind, just as it had when he first heard of the unrest in the city. He was, after all, his mother's son, and most likely had been front and centre of the action.

To his surprise, Henri felt a pang of distress as it occurred to him that his son was probably dead.

"I suppose you're happy now, father," he said bitterly to the air, "now that I am quite alone in the world. All the hard work in my life shall amount to nothing because I now have no heir. Was that your plan all along, bitter and twisted old man that you were? Is that why you cursed me with such a useless wife? Why couldn't you have allowed me to be happy?"

The memory of his ex-lover's face swam into his mind—Mademoiselle Boufort. He found that he dwelt on her more and more often these days. Even though it had been twenty four years since he had last seen her, he could picture her more clearly than many of his recent acquaintances.

He often wondered if he haunted her dreams the way she haunted his. He both feared and longed for sleep, for the moment when she would dance before his eyes once more. Her auburn wavy hair would shine in the sun and her dark oval eyes would stare into his once more. When he slept, he relived their youthful days together, and even now the memories caused a physical ache in his very core.

But when the time had come, she had chosen money over him. Henri bitterly remembered the day he had found the evidence of the betrayal by his father, who had paid her off to leave him. His temper had gotten the better of him on that occasion. He had broken with his father and had ceased speaking to him. But it was Henri's actions towards _her_ when he found out that he regretted most. He had not confronted her like a gentleman; he had hidden behind hired thugs and… he shuddered at the thought.

He rang the bell for Pascal, the only member of his staff that he trusted.

Perhaps, he mused, as he waited for the old servant to make his way there, it was time to let the past go and make amends for his actions. He was alone and he needed someone; he needed to find her again.

"Yes, Monsieur?" Pascal questioned as he arrived, interrupting Henri's thoughts. Henri pulled a piece of paper towards himself and scribbled down two names. He paused, reconsidered, and added a third.

"Pascal, this is the name of one of the most notorious private eyes in Paris. You are to find him and give him this woman's name. Instruct him to discover her current name and find out where she is."

Pascal nodded, and Henri caught the way he eyed the third name.

"Ah...yes..." he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You might as well ask him to see if there is any news of Marceline."

~X~

In the week that followed the fall of the barricade, Enjolras struggled with his feelings of despair. Eponine's miraculous survival served as his only consolation to the losses of his friends. He wanted to tell her how pleased he was that she was alive, but every time he looked at her he was hit by the guilt that she had been in harm's way in the first place. This led him to remember his other friends who had not been as fortunate as her, and his downward spiral would continue.

She had looked curiously at him the few times he had approached her and suddenly turned on his heel, returning to the room Musichetta had assigned him.

Today, a small pinprick had appeared in his cloud of despair. For the first time, he had realised that the ill-fitting clothes Musichetta had lent him had once belonged to Joly. It had been enough of a jolt to his conscience to motivate him into action.

He walked quickly into the living room where Eponine was sitting with her legs crossed, slowly working her way through the simpler tasks in Musichetta's box of mending that she took in to supplement the wages she earned as a seamstress's assistant.

Eponine jumped at his sudden arrival, jamming the needle into her finger.

"_Merde!*_" she exclaimed, placing the offending finger into her mouth. Her startled eyes took in his appearance and a frown appeared on her forehead. "What are you doing?" she asked, puzzled.

"I must return to my own flat..."

Eponine was on her feet before he could complete his sentence, the half mended gown abandoned on the floor. She stood in front of the door way as if she stood a chance of stopping him should he have tried to move her.

"You're not leaving this flat, Enjolras, and you are most definitely not going anywhere, especially dressed like that," she admonished.

"I have every intention of returning. It is because I am dressed like this that I need to go to my own flat. I cannot stand to wear Joly's clothes another minute. It... it is too painful."

The fiercely defensive set of her face softened at his words; she was silent for a moment before she spoke again in a much gentler voice. "Even so, you cannot go out dressed like that."

Enjolras sighed and slumped down onto the sofa, defeated. She was right, of course—he had dressed himself in the only clothes he had with him. They were the same he had worn on the day of the barricade; the red jacket he had tailored especially for the occasion clearly stated his involvement with the revolution. If there was any doubt, however, the fact that the clothes were ripped and blood stained would give him away. The small glimmer of motivation disappeared. He slumped forwards, placing his head in his hands, wondering how he would even muster up the energy to return to his room, when he felt the cushion of the sofa shift beside him.

A small hand briefly touched his fore arm. He missed the warmth from it as it was snatched away as quickly as she had placed it there. Enjolras looked up then to see that the hand was now folded together with her other one, sitting neatly in her lap.

"It's good to see you up today."

"I don't deserve to be here," he whispered.

"Please don't speak like that."

"It's the truth. I can't stand waking up each morning, knowing that I am alive when they are dead."

She tilted her head and looked at him contemplatively. "You find it hardest to wake up. Strange, I find it hardest to go sleep."

He looked into her face. He had been so wrapped up in his own anguish, he had forgotten that Eponine had been through a lot as well.

"I'm sorry—it is all my fault. You should never have been in that situation."

"I was there of my own free will, Enjolras, as was every other person at the barricade. You told me that yourself. You cannot blame yourself now."

"I was arrogant, Eponine. I was overconfident, I dreamed of a bright new tomorrow. I was so conceited; I thought I could change the world and I dragged everyone down with me."

"No, no, Enjolras. Those men, your friends, my brother—they all believed in the bright new world as well! They believed in it so much that they were willing to lay down their lives for it. We should not be sorry for them, we should be proud of them."

He wanted to believe her so much, but he felt guilty for even allowing her words to begin to penetrate the black bubble he had created around himself.

"How can you be so sure, so positive, after everything?"

She smiled at him. "Because I believe in all the things you said. Because it is not our tragedies that define us, it is the way we rise up from them that makes us who we are. I don't expect everything to be better for you straight away, but I'm not going anywhere until it is. You will make your friends proud. You are destined to make this world a better place. I am certain of that."

He didn't know if it was her faith in him that moved him the most, or if it was the fact that she used his mother's own words. But she said exactly what he needed to hear as only Eponine could have. Acting on impulse, he took her hand that into his own and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

She jumped at his touch and pulled her hand away, looking at him with startled eyes. A dark blush coloured her cheeks, though not as dark as Enjolras's own. A strange prickling feeling lingered on his lips where they had made contact with her skin.

"I'm sorry, I…" he trailed off embarrasedly.

"It's nothing," she stood up abruptly. "If you write me a list of the items you require from your flat, I can get them for you. I will be quicker and raise less suspicion than you."

"Yes, you're right," he said, trying to shake off the lingering awkwardness. He fetched some paper and hurriedly scribbled a list of the items required. Eponine snatched it out of his hand and rushed out the door. Enjolras found himself staring at the space she had been standing in long after she had left.

**Translation**

Merde* - Shit

_**(AN2 – On another note, I've recently discovered Tumblr! What a brilliant site it is! So I was browsing on there and found a graphic by someone called Eploras (your amazing) of this story! Cue lots of dancing around like a Mad Thing. So I decided to join, my page is called AnneMarie's Tumblr (The AnneMarie Posts – tumblr made me have it) I honestly have no idea what I'm doing on there so please come find me and help a techno-phobe out, would love to be able to connect with you all on there!**_

_**PS. Chap 17 is almost done and will be up soon, I promise it will make up from rubbish-ness of this one! MAJOR Joly progress, Montparnasse will rear his head and some E&E progress Yay! Until next time…)**_


	17. Chapter 17 - Discoveries

_**(AN – Hi all, sorry again for the delay, things are just hectic here. Hope this chapter makes up for it. Also for those of you who asked about it my Tumblr a link is now in my profile.)**_

**Chapter 17 – Discoveries **

Joly grimaced, looking at the palms of his hands. Moments before, they had broken his fall when two prison guards had thrown him none too gently back into his cell. His hands were now grazed and covered in dirt, and he mentally listed the different kinds of infections he could get from his scratches.

The metal door of his cell slammed behind him, and Joly kept his gaze focused on his hands as he listened to the guards' retreating footsteps. He heard another door slam in the distance and risked a peek over his shoulder. The guards definitely out of eyesight, Joly finally allowed the triumphant grin he had been holding in to spread across his face, although he regretted it slightly as it caused his newly swollen eye to sting.

Now he finally understood why they had been interrogating him so thoroughly for the past week. They had let slip that the bodies of an old man and two students had been unaccounted for. There was only one old man at the barricade, the strange Monsieur Fauchelevent, and Joly was glad to hear he had survived. The thought, however, that truly gladdened him was that of the two missing students. Although he had no idea which two they were, the very fact that two of his friends were alive, when he had spent the last week thinking that he was the only one left, was an unprecedented delight.

"My friends," he muttered to himself, "hopefully you have had the common sense to get out of Paris." Joly had refused to give out any of the names of his friends when he had believed them dead. Now, he realised, he had been protecting more than just their memories—he had been protecting their lives.

Joly had resigned himself to the fate was in store for him. They planned to make an example of him, to portray him as the leader in order to put others off of following in 'his' footsteps. His natural inclination to worry had not left him during his time in captivity. He had barely slept the past week, stressing over the unsanitary conditions in which he was kept. Several times, he had asked for a mirror so he could examine his tongue, but he had been refused. So the fact that he was certain he would shortly be executed was a blessing in disguise, really. It would be quick, at least, in comparison to one of the many illnesses he was certain would take him anyway if he stayed there much longer. On top of that, he would wear their accusations like a badge of honour—proud that anyone could believe he was as fearless and brave as Enjolras, who had truly led the revolution.

His only hope was that Musichetta would never know—that she would live out her days believing he died at the barricade. If she knew—if she came to visit him or in anyway associated herself with him—then she would be made to share his disgrace, and he could not bear that. He loved Musichetta wholeheartedly, he wished he had told her more often, and his only prayer until today had been that she would forget him and find someone else to have a family with and be as happy as she deserved. He would pray for this and he would also pray for his two friends.

Joly looked up, snapping out of his thoughts, to see a different guard at his door. He was a young man, perhaps only a year or two older than Joly himself, who—although he would never admit it—held similar sympathies to the young revolutionary and showed him kindness when he thought no one else was looking.

"Come along Monsieur, it's time to go," the guard said.

"Another interrogation? I have told them I know nothing. I joined the barricade on a whim that morning and do not know anything of the other men there."

The young guard shook his head, knowing that Joly was lying. "No Monsieur, no more interrogations. It is time for your trial."

~X~

Eponine rushed through the streets, weaving in and out of the crowds as she had used to, although today her hurry was due to her reluctance to leave Enjolras alone for too long.

Her mind kept replaying the moment Enjolras had kissed her hand. It had taken her by surprise; he had never been one for affectionate gestures, even when they were young. She supposed, though, they were currently in slightly extraordinary circumstances.

She found herself unable to supress the giggle that bubbled through her at the thought. Her laugh was instantly snatched away by the image of Marius's broken body abandoned on the barricade. _You are selfish, Eponine Thenardier_, she mentally reprimanded herself, _how can you be laughing? Have you forgotten Marius, who died loving you?_

Eponine's eyes were cast to the floor in self-reproach, and she did not see the man in her path until she crashed into him.

"I beg your pardon, Mademoiselle," he said, reaching out with one arm to steady her.

Eponine's jaw hung slack as she stared at the man who blushed under her scrutiny, and she quickly decided to hurry on.

No one had ever apologised to her before, she realised. In Musichetta's hand me down dress, she must have looked like a _grisette_ and not a _gamine_. _What a strange turn of events_, she thought, as she continued on with her task.

She entered Enjolras's flat and was hit by the smell of paper and wood mixed with faint hints of soap. Stepping into the room, she found it untidy enough to prove it belonged to a bachelor. Books and papers were strewn across every available surface. She tutted to herself, wondering if her serious boy had ever spent five minutes of his life not working. Somehow she doubted it.

She ran her fingertips along a bookshelf that was situated above a desk. Most of the titles were beyond her comprehension. Her fingers stopped as she noticed one with words she recognised: _'Epponina et Sabinus_.' The discovery spread a warmth through her chilled heart. He must have forgiven her at some point and to some extent to have purchased this book.

This time allowing the faint smile on her lips to linger, Eponine began stuffing Enjolras's listed items into the portmanteau she had brought with her. On impulse she grabbed a couple of books from his shelf, including _Epponina et Sabinus,_ and some papers from his desk before securely closing the Portmanteau. Perhaps if Enjolras had something to spend his time on, he would return to his old self.

She made for the door but paused and looked around once more. Seeing a discarded letter on the side, she grabbed it and stuffed it into her pocket to give to him also.

Her task completed, she was once again on the Parisian streets moving as quickly as she could, the portmanteau stuffed under her good arm. The late June sun was warm and she felt a few beads of sweat develop on her brow. She hurried her steps, longing to return to the cool shade of Musichetta's flat, when a figure in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Eponine had spent most of her adult life on the streets. She knew when she was being followed. She also knew how to lose someone.

She dove into the centre of the crowds of people, blessing her small size for once—she made sure that she changed directions several times. By the time she reached the quieter streets near Musichetta's, she felt certain she had lost her follower, until he stepped out in front of her.

"Eponine," he leered, his cold grey eyes looking her up and down. "What is going on here?"

"Montparnasse," she spat.

He grabbed her wrist, and she tried not to wince as it jolted her bad shoulder. Surprisingly, Montparnasse looked vaguely concerned. "You're hurt." He let go of her and Eponine took a few steps backwards, putting distance between them.

"Your father has been looking for you," Montparnasse sneered, the coldness returning to his eyes. "He was worried."

"I doubt that."

"Well, _I_ was. I feared the worst after that rebellion. I knew that you were always mooning about after those students. I thought you might have done something foolish and gotten yourself killed."

"I am as you see me," Eponine said plainly.

"And I am glad of it. Now, you must return with me," he commanded.

"No."

"Excuse me?" he demanded.

"I am staying with a friend at the moment. He is… unwell. I cannot leave him."

"_Him?_ So that is why you have dressed yourself up so fine. I'm not good enough for you, then, am I? Decided to go behind my back and get yourself a fancy Bourgeois to look after you?"

Eponine stepped away as he advanced toward her threateningly. "Calm down, 'Parnasse," she said, attempted to sooth him in hopes that she could make a clean get away, "there is nothing untoward going on. I am just helping out an old friend who needs me."

"_I_ need you, 'Ponine. What about me? Do you have any idea what I had to go through in order to buy you from the Patron-Minette? I _own_ you, Eponine. I bought you with blood."

His words sent a chill down Eponine's spine in spite of the hot weather. She turned on her heel to make a quick exit, leaving the injured Montparnasse behind her.

"If you don't care about me more than your friend, what about Azelma, then?"

Eponine froze in her tracks, and Montparnasse grinned triumphantly. He knew exactly what buttons to press when it came to Eponine and her conscience.

"She's in jail because of you."

Eponine turned slowly round to face him, watching the smug smirk that spread wider across his face. "She's where?"

"She's in jail. You weren't there to be look out, and your father decided to use her. Turns out she was useless. Nearly got us all caught..."

Eponine did not listen; she was running in a direction she unfortunately knew far too well. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she thought of a thousand things at once. The last thing she heard was Montparnasse's taunting remark.

"Run all you like Eponine, you won't get her out without my help. You know where I am when you need me, and you _will_ need me! You can't escape me 'Ponine—we belong to each other."

~X~

Soon after Eponine had left, Enjolras retreated back to his room. He had heard Musichetta return from work, and he wondered if he should perhaps inform her of Eponine's whereabouts, but he felt uncomfortable to be left on his own with her. With the exception of his mother and Eponine, he was always uncomfortable around women, having not really interacted with any but those two since his childhood. Ironically, considering how well he spoke publicly, he did not naturally possess the ability for small talk with women, and always seemed to fail at the kind of delicate speech he had often witnessed Courfeyrac use to charm ladies.

Enjolras made up his mind to stay in his room; Musichetta did not sound like she was too worried by Eponine's absence. He could hear the faint clinking of pots and pans accompanied by the girl's own soft humming as she prepared their tea.

Perhaps Enjolras was projecting his own emotions onto Musichetta and expecting her to feel them also. The length of time Eponine had been absent had begun to worry him half an hour ago. His list was not a long one—he had not expected her to be absent for over an hour, and it had already been two. He consulted his fob watch for the third time in the last five minutes; he would give her another half-hour before he went looking for her.

However, before ten minutes had passed, Enjolras was drawn from his reflection by Musichetta's cry and the sound of a pan crashing to the floor. He was across his room in two firm strides. As he reached down to grab the door handle, he heard the reason for the commotion.

"Eponine. Eponine, calm down. What's wrong?" came Musichetta's worried voice.

The words caused him to pull the door open with such force that it crashed against the wall behind him. The resulting bang alerted the two girls to his presence. Their startled eyes focused on him as each remained frozen in position. The pan in which Musichetta had been preparing broth lay where it had fallen, its contents spilt across the floor and up the skirts and apron of her dress. She scarcely seemed to notice as she stood with her arm around Eponine's shoulders. Eponine's own dress was similarly ruined. It was splattered with mud, and he may have wondered how it got there if it was not so obvious that she must have been running and splashed through puddles in her haste. Her cheeks were severely flushed and her chest heaved in breathlessness. Her hair, which had been pinned up when she left, was now hanging wildly in all directions.

He approached her, quickly removing the portmanteau that she still clutched tightly in her arms. Musichetta guided her to the sofa and sat beside her.

"Oh, Musichetta... however shall I tell you!" Eponine cried in obvious distress, her breath hitching in her throat.

Enjolras crouched on the floor in front of her so that his face was at her eye level. "Take a deep breath," he commanded, holding her gaze, careful to hide the concern from his own face as she took deep breaths as he had instructed.

"What happened? Who upset you?" he asked in what he hoped was a reassuring tone.

"I... he... I was—Azelma! Oh God I forgot all about Azelma!" Eponine cried, breaking her gaze away from his.

"It's ok," he reassured, coaxing her brown eyes back to his. He saw some of the tension release from her face. "Just start at the beginning."

He didn't allow his eye contact to drop away from hers as she informed him what had happened. He saw the way she hesitated before saying she had bumped into a 'friend'.

"Montparnasse informed me that my sister had been caught being look out for my father and was now in prison."

Musichetta rubbed Eponine's arm reassuringly as Enjolras frowned. He knew that name—he was sure of it. Wasn't he the one that had made him jealous all those years ago?

"...So I rushed there as fast as I could," Eponine continued, "but, I suppose your clothes must make me look respectable, Musichetta, because the guard wouldn't let me in. He said that if I wished to lodge a complaint about my sister being in there, I must lodge it with a _magistrat _ at the Court. So, naturally that is where I went next—only, before I could speak to anyone, I saw... and I forgot all about poor Azelma... because..."

"What was it?" Musichetta asked. Eponine looked away from Enjolras for the first time since she had started telling the story and looked at the girl beside her.

"It was Joly," she whispered. "They have Joly."

_**(AN2 – I just want to give a quick shout for Calisgirld99's story Crimson - it's such a good and a very different take on E&E can't recommend it enough!)**_


	18. Chapter 18 - Sleepless Nights

_**Sorry if you saw the last update when I uploaded chapter 8 by mistake! Oops! Thanks SusanaLovesRowling for spotting that **___

_**AN – I am so so so sorry that this chapter has been such a long time coming! I've just had a manic last two weeks. My life has (thankfully) decided to settle down a bit now so it should be business as usually with this story.**_

_**To thank you all for waiting for this chapter I shall reward you with some fluffy stuff – enjoy **___

**Chapter 18 – **_**Sleepless Nights**_

Monsieur Blanc, not his real name, returned to his flat that evening truly pleased with his work. He had been in the spying game for longer than he cared to admit, and could read people easier than he could read a book.

Meticulous as always, he drew out the two 'Enjolras' files he was working on. Retrieving a fresh sheet of paper, he made a careful note of all the features he had seen on the girl he bumped into on the street. She had gone into Marceline Enjolras's flat, just as he had predicted when he saw her with the portmanteau under her arm.

He closed the file and pulled the spectacles from his face. A quick background search had shown more than even the time-weary private eye had expected to discover. Life was strange, he thought, the way it twisted and turned and yet always seemed to come back around in a perfect circle.

He wondered if people truly knew what they were getting themselves into when they hired his services. But he reminded himself that, as long as he was paid, it was none of his concern. He got out a fresh parchment and began a letter to Henri Enjolras, informing him of what he had discovered so far.

~X~

Eponine's evening had passed in a blur. It had taken her the better part of an hour to convince Musichetta to wait until the morning before visiting Joly. Furthermore, the task of calming her down was made harder by Enjolras's pacing through the room. Eventually, Eponine remembered the books she had retrieved from his flat. He was grateful that many of them were law books, and soon enough had shut himself in his room to study what could be done.

Eponine had then made certain to supply Musichetta with several glasses of wine. Thankfully, they had fulfilled their purpose of making Musichetta fall asleep.

Night had fallen and Eponine was currently lying in the bed that had been made for her in Musichetta's room, listening to her friend's measured breaths. She tried to mimic them in the hope that it would induce her to sleep as well, but it did not; she watched shadows dance across the room and her mind was busy thinking of the day's many events.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Joly's face and the look of resignation on those features which had always been so ready to smile. She shuddered at the thought.

Seeking a distraction, Eponine sat up from her bed, wrapped a shawl around her nightdress, and crept into the main living room. She now mimicked Enjolras's path from earlier in the day as she walked back and forth across the room, trying to find something to distract her mind. She _knew_ a way to help Joly, but it was not a path she was in a hurry to go down. She sincerely hoped Enjolras would come up with a better idea.

The silence of the night was broken by the sound of something dropping on the floor in Enjolras's room, closely followed by a muttered curse. Frowning, Eponine padded across the living room to his door and opened it.

"Enjolras, are you…" Her words were cut off as she gasped in astonishment. Enjolras stood in only his trousers, his braces hanging loosely at his hips. His shirt was discarded on the bed. Eponine's eyes flew to the floor before Enjolras could look at her.

"Damn it," Enjolras repeated, a dark red blush colouring his cheeks and nose. He dove onto the floor to try and retrieve the bandage that had rolled across the room and unravelled at Eponine's feet.

With one swift movement, she caught it in her hand and held it out to him. He hesitated before taking it from her.

She wanted to leave, but she was rooted to the spot by her own feelings of awkward embarrassment. It wasn't that she was a proper lady who had never seen a man's bare chest before. She had little modesty to be offended. It was more her own reaction to the sight that was secretly humiliating her—the familiar heat that ran down her spine.

She risked another glace at him and saw he was clumsily trying to bandage the cut just below his right shoulder. It was enough to chase away any lingering desire she felt and replace it with sympathy. A small giggle escaped her lips at the hilarity of the whole situation. Their eyes met for the first time since she had walked in, and the tension around them melted away.

"Would you like some help?" she smiled, taking a step into the room.

He hesitated, and Eponine noticed the dark bags under his eyes. The day must have taken its toll on him as well. She felt a rush of tender affection for her poor serious boy, who always had taken everything too much to heart.

"Come on. It'll only take me a moment."

He nodded his consent, and Eponine crossed the room, retrieving the bandage from his hand. Her own hands, to her embarrassment, were shaking as she faced the prospect of touching his bare skin. She placed a wad of cloth against the cut and pressed one end of a bandage against it, holding it in place with her left hand, her little finger suspended at a strange angle to prevent it from touching him.

She leaned forward to wrap the bandage around his chest. It was broad, and in order to wrap the bandage around, she had to stretch across until her head was almost tucked under his chin. Her mind betrayed her by imagining what it would feel like to wrap her other arm around him and bury her head into his shoulder. She shocked herself by how much she wanted to lose herself in his embrace. She fumbled her way through, winding the bandage around two more times, trying to ignore the heat that was prickling through her veins. She tied it off and stepped back, putting as much distance between them as possible.

He looked at her curiously, and the way his blue eyes pierced hers made her certain that he could read her thoughts. He retrieved his shirt from the back of the chair and threw it over his head.

Eponine pulled her shawl tighter around herself and cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

_I would be if you put on a cravat or something; I've seen enough of your chest to last me a life time,_ she thought, eyeing the open buttons of his shirt.

"I'm fine," was all she said.

"Why are you up? It's nearly midnight."

"Couldn't sleep. I heard you still up, so I..."

"You need to sleep Eponine, after the day you've had."

"Yes, well, tell that to my brain."

He walked swiftly towards her, and for a wild moment she thought he was going to take her in his arms and kiss her. Her heart fluttered madly against her chest. He walked past her, though, and out into the hall, and she tried to pretend she didn't feel slightly disappointed.

He paused and turned back to her. "Are you coming?"

Springing into action, she followed him into the living room, where he was attempting to light Musichetta's stove.

"What are you doing?"

"Warm milk," he smiled, "an old trick of Joséphine's for when I couldn't sleep as a boy."

She perched herself on the window seal and tucked her feet beneath her. For a while she was content to watch the moon outside. Her mind felt relaxed—the worries of the day were suddenly less prominent in her mind.

She was already feeling sleepy by the time Enjolras pressed the warm mug into her hand. She smiled at him gratefully. He sat on the chair nearest the window, stretching his long legs out in front of him as he blew the hot steam from the top of his own mug.

"Are you ok?" Eponine asked, recalling the dark bags under his own eyes.

"Never better," he said dryly.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Enjolras."

"I never claimed to be a witty man." The smile that crept onto his lips and was mirrored by her own.

"But Joly is alive. You must feel something."

"I've spent the last week wishing that it would have been me instead of my friends. Now I have a chance to put things right."

"You have a plan, then?"

"Not so much a plan—more of an idea. It might help us get Joly out, but it won't help Azelma."

"Zelma's not as tough as me. She's too good for the life that she has been forced to live. She won't like it—hell, _I_ don't like it—but she's been in this situation before and survived. In fact, she's probably safer there. The Patron-Minette cannot get to her," she said, shuddering at the thought. Enjolras raised an enquiring eyebrow, but she did not want to reveal the humiliating fact that her father sold her and Azelma like cattle. Thankfully he did not ask her any further questions. "Her life is not in danger, but Joly's is. If you can get him out, that has to be priority. Azelma would want that too."

"You are certain?" he asked.

She nodded firmly.

"That settles it then. I will go down to the courthouse first thing in the morning."

"You can't go down there! What if someone recognises you?"

"Actually, that would be even better. It would be easier then to convince them to exchange Joly for me."

"Are you insane?! Enjolras, you _can't do that_."

"I must. It's the only way. I will speak with Musichetta before I go." He sighed. "You don't need me to keep going. You have a good basic knowledge of sewing. If she teaches you, then you may be able to get a job alongside her at the dress makers. I will make sure you are looked after, Eponine."

"As if I care for that!" Eponine scoffed. "If you think I will let you do this, then you are mad!"

"Do you have a better plan?"

Eponine's stomach churned. "Yes, I do."

He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. Eponine bit her lip, but continued. "It's not the best plan, but it's better than yours, at least."

Was she really going to do this? She knew what the consequences would be. She had sworn she would _never_ allow herself to be in debt to a member of the Patron-Minette, _especially_ not Montparnasse. But she couldn't allow Enjolras to hand himself over. She couldn't let him do that—not when she had only just got him back into her life. She wouldn't allow him to leave.

"We moved to Paris because my father became associated with the Patron-Minette."

She could tell he was shocked by this, although he tried to keep his face impassive. Nevertheless, she saw the way his brow twitched and his lips pursed together at her words.

"Why did he not just open another inn?" he asked.

"He couldn't. We fell into debt in Montfermeil—_he _fell into debt. It hadn't been the first time, but he usually found a way to talk his way out of payments he couldn't afford. I'm not entirely sure what happened this time, though. I have always assumed he borrowed money from the wrong person. All I ever heard my parents say was that 'that man' was to blame. My father was so afraid of him, he moved to Paris and started going by Jondrette instead of Thenardier. He couldn't get respectable work, in case he was discovered, and so he found his way to the Patron-Minette. That is how I ended up the way I was when I first met you again."

Eponine's heart sank slightly at the deep frown that creased his brow. She was certain she had lost any of the respect he might still have held for her by telling him that. And yet, she would make as many sacrifices as were necessary in order to protect him.

"What exactly are you suggesting?" he asked, finally speaking.

"I could use my connections to help us save Joly. I have a good friendship with Montparnasse," she lied, "and he would help us, for a price."

"Money is no object. It's about the only thing my father's ever been good for."

Eponine smiled. For all his intelligence and grand ideas, Enjolras was incredibly naive to the ways of the world. He didn't seem to realise that where she came from, life was a game that everybody cheated at. Montparnasse may be able to be bought with money, but if he wasn't, there would be a higher price to pay.

"I shall arrange to meet with him tomorrow."

Enjolras drained the last of his drink and stood. "Good night, then."

"Good night, Enjolras." She turned to leave, but he caught her hand and held it for a brief moment, effectively catching her attention. She turned at his touch; his own hand now hung uncomfortably in the air between them.

"What you said about Azelma being too good…" he began awkwardly.

"Yes?"

"You are as well. You are too good for the life you have had to lead."

"Isn't everyone?" she asked with a wry smile.

"Yes, but you especially, Eponine," Enjolras said earnestly. "You are one of the few truly good people I have ever known. I am glad you are my friend."

"As am I," she said with a smile as she returned to her room.

As she lay her head down on the pillow, her mind was more troubled than when she had left bed. She felt confused by feelings that she could not understand. Her body, though, had finally used the last of its remaining energy and her eyes grew heavy. In spite of everything that had happened, she was soon asleep.

_**AN2 – Hope you liked the kind of fluff **_____

_**In case you didn't know I've started an AU modern E&E story based on a picture from Tumblr that I couldn't get out of my head. I've never done this before so it's completely new ground. If you want to check it out it's called Wishful Words. But never fear, it is a sub story to this one which will continue to be my main priority! **_


	19. Chapter 19 - La Conciergerie

**Chapter 19 – La Conciergerie**

_Run—run faster, Enjolras. His feet pounded the ground and the air burned in his lungs. He glanced over his shoulder; Doctor Beaufort was far behind. Leave him—just run. He wasn't fast enough, he was never fast enough. His Mére was there, but he was not racing to her this time._

_She called out to him. "Run, Enjolras, before it's too late!"_

_He tried to go faster but he couldn't. He fell to the ground. The barricade had risen before him and was covered with blood—his hands were covered with blood._

_"Forgive me," he cried._

_He was pulled up to his feet by Combeferre and Courfeyrac._

_"Now is not the time to wallow in despair," said the first._

_"There are higher things at stake," said the second._

_"Run!" they both cried. _

_Once again, he was running. His feet pounded against the pavement and his heart pounded in his ears. He had no idea what he was running to. Not Mére, not revolution. Something was on the horizon; he could feel it but not see it._

_He was so close, a little bit further and he would be able to see what it was._

_Just a few steps left... Something stepped into his path, sending him falling backwards..._

He jolted awake to find himself in the same bed where he had gone to sleep a few hours previously. The pale light of early morning was filtering through the window and a bird was singing its hopeful tune outside. Everything surrounding him seemed to be calm as Enjolras sat wiping sweat from his brow.

He had not dreamed since the fall of the barricade. Truthfully, he had only started sleeping properly at all in the last few days.

He swung his legs out of bed and got up, trying to shake the lingering emotions from his mind. He was never one to believe in nonsense such as the meaning of dreams, but he couldn't help feeling that his subconscious was trying to tell him something that he had not yet figured out.

He crossed the room to the small desk scattered with papers and books. He tried thinking about the dream and its significance. Helping Joly was the reason he was alive, and that had to be the cause of the dream.

If he could help Joly, that would mean he survived the barricade for something. It was the only reason he was allowing Eponine to use her contact with the Patron-Minette, despite the fact that it went against his better judgement. It was also the only reason he now pulled a piece of paper toward himself and did one of the few things he swore he would never do—he composed a letter to his father, asking for money.

He hoped the letter would ease the troubling thoughts in his mind, but it did not.

He had been shut up inside for too long; he needed fresh air in order to get his mind to think clearly. Taking his coat and hat, Enjolras made for the door. He heard no noise from the girls' room as he crept past. It was early, and Musichetta would not be up for work for another hour. He could be back before they even knew he had gone.

As he walked, Enjolras let his mind wander. For once, he wasn't planning a better France, a revolution or a republic—he just let his thoughts drift.

He remembered times with his friends—the memory of Courfeyrac and Combeferre so fresh in his mind from his dream the night before. They were the guide and the centre of their group, and they each played their part in keeping their band of friends together.

He remembered how Courfeyrac and Marius used to tease each other—in fact, how everyone used to tease Marius. He remembered how Bahorel claimed to be a student, and yet everyone was surprised when he actually turned up to class.

It was the thought of Grantaire that tipped the balance, though. The drunkard who Enjolras used to scorn and yet who had been there at the end of the barricade had taken the bullets meant for him. A few tears began to slip down his face. He brushed them away and realised that he had subconsciously arrive at the Café Musain.

For a while he stood outside the building and stared up, basking in the warm glow of the pleasant memories of his friends and the times they had shared together inside.

Eponine was right—he was sorry for his friends' sacrifice, but he was proud of them too. They had given up everything for the cause, and he swore to himself that their deaths would not be in vain. The fact that he was alive meant that he could still make a difference. In the name of his friends, he would continue the fight.

But he knew that, right now, the most important thing was to help Joly. That is what they would have wanted most. With that in mind, he turned on his heel and headed home.

~X~

"Are you certain?" Musichetta asked later that day.

"Quite certain," Eponine replied, unceremoniously pulling pins from the girl's hair, causing the wheat gold waves to cascade around her shoulders.

"What is it?" Musichetta asked, seeing Eponine's expression in the mirror.

"It's your hair."

"What's wrong with it now?" she asked self-consciously, curling an end round her finger.

"It looks too nice if you let it down. You'll stick out like a sore thumb. No gamine would have hair like this—it would have been sold to the wig makers years ago."

"Your hair is long," Musichetta pointed out.

"I was not allowed to sell mine. It was in my father's interest to keep myself and my sister presentable. Oh look, this will do," Eponine said, changing the subject and reaching into Musichetta's scrap fabric basket. She tied a headscarf around Musichetta's head like a bandana. Eponine twisted the glorious locks at the nape of Musichetta's neck and pinned them in place, securing the headscarf underneath.

"Better." She smiled.

"I still do not understand the need for the disguise," Musichetta said, scrutinising Eponine's work in the mirror.

"Because—we do not know who we will have to cross to see Joly. They may happily take our bribe but turn us in later. It's safer if they cannot give an accurate description."

Eponine finished stuffing some fabric into the toes of a pair of Joly's boots. She pulled them on, tucking in the trouser ends that were too long for her. She pulled a large jacket on to hide the curves that had become more prominent after two weeks of having three square meals a day. She stuffed her hair into a cap and tried to ignore the sickly feeling in her stomach. She would take Musichetta to Joly and then she had her own task to carry out.

She had woken early that morning and slipped out to the tavern she knew was frequented daily by the members of the Patron-Minette, leaving a note for Montparnasse to meet her at Notre Dame after dark. She prayed 'Parnasse would be the one to get her message and not her father.

"Are you okay, Eponine? You look terribly pale." Musichetta laid her hand on Eponine's arm.

"I'm fine, thank you," Eponine smiled. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Musichetta said firmly.

"Mademoiselle," Eponine laughed, holding her arm out to her friend.

"Monsieur," Musichetta giggled, taking hold of it. They walked out of the bedroom arm in arm.

Enjolras was waiting in the living area. He had changed his clothes from the day and was dressed similarly to Eponine. He wore an unbuttoned beige waist coat and had rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. He wore a cap over his blonde curls and had tied a red neckerchief around his throat in the place of a cravat.

Since last night her heart had begun to thump slightly every time she saw him, which confused her greatly. She had concluded that it was nothing more than physical attraction brought about by enforced close quarters. She was not going to spoil their relationship by letting such feelings get the better of her. It made no difference she reminded herself; she loved Marius and always would. Although, she dwelt on him less often over the last few days she reassured herself that it was simply because she had so much on her mind- _wasn't it?_

Musichetta, picked up a small pouch from her pocket, the coins inside it jangled as she turned to Eponine. "Are you sure this will work?"

"I've done it hundreds of times," she said confidently as the unlikely trio made their way onto the streets. She didn't feel it wise to add that she had never tried it at La Conciergerie.

Since her family had come to Paris, Eponine had been made all too aware of how the prison system worked. She had done time inside herself before, and she knew how poorly the guards were paid. A little bribery had gotten her in to see Maman or Papa before. As they reached the end of the Saint Michel bridge that lead to La Conciergerie,

she motioned to Enjolras and Musichetta to stop.

"It's just down this road. Wait here and I will go and see if I can bribe our way in."

"I'll come with you," Enjolras said, stepping forwards as Musichetta handed over the money.

"No, it will be too intimidating if we both go. Wait here with Musichetta; I won't be a moment."

"It's not safe," he protested

"Please, I've done this often enough," she said, trying to smile reassuringly at him and not be irked by his protectiveness. "Plus, I am disguised as a man so I won't get into any trouble."

~X~

Without waiting for his reply, Eponine was gone. Enjolras could not help staring at her retreating figure. She did not look like a man to him; even in her disguise, it was obvious that she was female. The breaches alone showed off her shapely legs and her…

Enjolras tore his gaze away in embarrassment and cleared his throat awkwardly. He felt the blood rushing to his face.

"Are you okay, Enjolras?" Musichetta asked gently, placing a hand to his cheek. "You look flushed—I hope you are not getting a fever."

"Thank you, Mademoiselle, but I am quite well."

Musichetta seemed satisfied with his answer and returned her pensive stare to the Seine.

He hadn't meant to stare; he was simply noting what anyone else looking would have seen—that her disguise was ridiculous. He paced restlessly until Eponine returned with a triumphant smile on her face.

"Come quickly—there will be no guard outside Joly's door for the next half hour. I will show you the way."

Musichetta rushed forwards and the group was quickly walking down the street to La Concierge again. It was a large ugly grey building, built long ago for the purpose of housing criminals. Surrounded by water, you could only reach it via one of six bridges, making escape more difficult. It was the same prison that had housed Marie Antoinette when the old Monarchy had fallen. It angered Enjolras that it now housed someone who had been fighting for a republic, the very opposite ideal to that of its previous occupant.

Eponine lead them along the side and round to the back of the building. There was only a narrow path between the prison and the water's edge. A simple railing was all that separated the building from the footpath.

"He is below the sixth window along."

Enjolras stopped to check there was no one around as Musichetta and Eponine counted the windows until they arrived at the sixth. He caught up to them as Musichetta was leaning over the railings.

"Joly!" she hissed into the darkness.

Enjolras followed her gaze. The building continued about another six feet below the pavement. He could see a series of barred windows without glass in what must have been the basement.

A flurry of skirts caught his attention as Musichetta climbed over the railing and dropped down into the gap below. It was just about wide enough for her to stand in, and when she knelt down, her face was level with the window.

"Joly," she whispered again.

From where he stood, Enjolras could see nothing more of Joly than the pale white fingers that curled around one of the bars and the hand that shot out to cradle Musichetta's

face.

"Musichetta, what are you doing here?"

Enjolras was surprised by the rush of emotion he felt at hearing his friend speak.

"Joly, look at you," she choked out.

"Musichetta, you can't stay here. It's not safe. What if someone sees you?"

"They won't, my love. We bribed the guards and Eponine and Enjolras are keeping watch."

There was a long stretch of silence before Joly spoke. "Enjolras is alive?"

"I helped Eponine drag him from the barricade myself."

"But-but I watched Eponine die! How can she be alive? How can _he_?"

"Well, you obviously are not a very good doctor my dearest, because neither of them are dead and I can attest to that. They are alive and we are going to get you out of here."

"I-I… I thought… I thought I was the only one left!" Joly sobbed.

"And I thought I had lost you!" Musichetta cried, barely able to choke back her own sobs. "But thank God I haven't. I have found you and I won't let them take you from me again. I won't." She sealed her promise by placing her head against the bars and pressing a kiss to Joly's lips.

Enjolras, swallowing a lump in his own throat, turned his back on the pair and allowed them to have their moment.

Eponine was looking at him as he turned around.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing," she replied quickly. "Will you wait with Musichetta while I go and meet Montparnasse?"

"I thought we were going to go together once we were finished here?"

"Yes, but I don't want to keep him waiting, for he'll leave. He is not the most patient of people."

"I will come with you, then," he said, not wanting her to go alone.

"No, stay with Musichetta. I am meeting him at Notre Dame; no harm will come to me. You cannot leave her here, outside La Conciergerie, by herself. It is not safe. I will only be ten minutes away."

He knew she was right—he could not leave Musichetta, but he did not want Eponine to go alone either.

"You are going to go, even if I ask you not to, aren't you?"

"Yes," she lifted her chin defiantly.

He sighed. She hadn't grown out of her tendency to be stubborn. He knew better than anyone that the more you asked her not to do something, the more determined she would be to do it.

"I promise I will be fine, Enjolras. I will go directly there and will not leave until you and Musichetta come to meet me. It will be easier to ask Montparnasse for help without an audience. It's our best chance."

"Ok," he said, resigned. "We will be along as soon as Musichetta has finished."

She smiled at him before walking away.

"Eponine," he called out.

She turned back to face him; he didn't know why he needed to say it, but he had to.

"Be careful."

"I always am."

_**A/N – Ok history lesson time. I tried to find records of visits to prisoners in 1800s Paris. Basically I found nothing so I assumed it wasn't the done thing which meant I could use my artistic license for the above (which was much more fun)**_

_**La **__**Conciergerie is, of course, a real prison that was used up until 1914 and as Enjolras told you all held Marie Antoinette. Seemed like an appropriate place for Joly to be as a prisoner of revolution. La Conciergerie is a very beautiful building now but it went under a huge renovation in 1858 so does not look as it did in 1832. I've kept the basic structure the same as it is now, with the railings and the basement cells, but as it needed redecorating I have assumed it must have been pretty ugly (unfortunately I couldn't find any pictures or detailed descriptions of how it looked before the renovation) Any historical inaccuracies are all my own fault and I take full responsibility for them **___

_**Anyways, I hope you have all enjoyed and as always let me know what you think.**_


	20. Chapter 20 - Notre Dame

_**A/N – Hello everyone! Did you think I had forgotten about you? Never! I just want to reassure you all that I would never abandon a story half way through! But I have been really crazy busy this month because we moved house. Also my last chapter got a bit of a rubbish response review wise (I know there have been some problems with the review button) but it just made me lose my muse with this story for a little while **__**BUT**__** its back with a vengeance. I've got next chapter written and the next three skeleton planned so hopefully I will be able to upload much quicker!**_

_**Thank you SusannaLovesRowling and Fanpire101 for your help with this chapter! And also GPRox for putting some really love reviews up whilst I was on a mini hiatus & of course to all my regular reviewers, you are the ones that keep me writing and you're reviews mean a lot to me. Anyway I'll shut up now and get on with the story….**_

**Chapter Twenty – Notre Dame**

The Notre Dame rose stately and imposing in the darkening skyline_._ On nights when she had not been able to return home for various reasons, Eponine had often stood outside and admired the sacred building. She liked the way it looked as if it would stand forever. The image had always been able to comfort her, but not this time. She tried to ignore the sense of foreboding that ran down her spine as she made her way inside.

The large doors and tall arched ceilings only intensified Eponine's feelings of smallness that she tried to ignore. She had spent her entire life hiding behind a façade of confidence, but now she felt vulnerable and did not like it.

Her shrewd dark eyes scanned her surroundings: the newly risen moon sent its glow through the stained glass windows, showering the darkness with colourful shards of light. Montparnasse was nowhere in sight.

She slipped onto a pew at the back. Although shrouded in shadow, she still pulled her cap down over her face. Her fingers twiddle with the fabric of her breeches as she tried not to think what would happen if Montparnasse didn't turn up or refused to help. He had been right when he told her that she would need him eventually. Everything rested on his agreeing to help; it was the only way Eponine could stop Enjolras from handing himself over, the thought of which, she had found, cut her to her core.

Soft sobbing broke through her consciousness. She looked up—two women were making their way down the aisle toward her. She had not seen them when she had first entered; they must have been at the front.

Eponine sunk back into her seat as they approached, not wanting to be noticed. Something about one of the approaching figures caused her to sit up and take a look. She almost missed her, as she was dressed in black instead of her usual pale pastel colours. The dark veil draped down from the tip of her bonnet to her waist was meant to hide her face from prying gazes, but her blue eyes shone through it and were unmistakeable—Cosette.

Cosette paused in her graceful progress as she reached the end of Eponine's pew. For a heartbeat, Eponine thought she had been spotted, but Cosette simply lifted the veil to dab at her red eyes with a handkerchief before moving on. She looked as if she had been crying for years.

"Come now, Cosette," cajoled the plump lady that walked beside her. "He wouldn't have wanted you to be sad."

"I know, I just miss him so much," Cosette sighed as they passed through the cathedral doors and out of sight.

Eponine stared after them for some time after they had gone. She should have felt jealous that Cosette was allowed to mourn Marius even though she had barely known him. She should have felt guilty that her tears had dried up before Cosette's. But instead, she felt an overwhelming sense of pity. Cosette deserved Marius and she had lost him.

Eponine felt a tear roll down her cheek. She caught it with her finger tips and held it before her eyes. She needed confirmation of what she felt in her heart. She was crying—not for Marius, but for Cosette. With a blinding force, she had realised what it would feel like to lose someone you truly loved, and it was not Marius whom she pictured—it was Enjolras.

The realisation, once it hit her, spread rapidly through her heart and mind. Suddenly everything made sense: the confusion she had been feeling around him for the past two days, the way her heart had started to leap slightly when he entered the room. Her very own serious boy—she loved him! Her infatuation with Marius had taken root and grown because he was a wealthy young man and she had hoped to replace the friend she had lost. She understood with a shuddering force that she would do anything to protect him. She needed him – _good god, how had this happened?_ She loved everything about him, perhaps she always had.

She stood up, her eyes blinking back tears as she desperately searched the darkening cathedral for any sign of Montparnasse. He had to come now. Everything rested on Eponine making a deal with him. If she didn't, she would lose Enjolras again, when she had only just truly found him and realised what he meant to her. If he sacrificed himself for Joly, it would kill her.

She spotted Montparnasse as soon as he entered; a sly smile curved across his face when he saw her waiting. Eponine was able to wipe away her tears before he got near enough to see them.

"I thought you would not come," she said.

"Why wouldn't I? I told you that you would need me eventually. Did you think that I would not come when you called?" he asked, sliding onto the pew next to her.

"I thought you may not have received my note."

"I was waiting for it," he grinned. "Shall we take a walk outside?"

"No," she said quickly. "I like it in here."

"Fine. So, about Azelma…"

"No, not Azelma," she shook her head sadly.

A look of genuine amazement passed across Montparnasse's face, quickly followed by one of malicious joy. He slid his arm around her waist. "Ponine, you cannot mean to tell me you called me here purely to see me."

"No, I didn't," she said, sliding away from his touch.

"What, then?" he asked, a dark sneer distorting his handsome features.

"I need your help to get someone out of jail. Not Azelma—someone else."

"Who?" Parnasse snapped.

"A friend of mine. He was involved in the rebellion."

"No!" he roared, his voice echoing round the cathedral. "I will not help you rescue one of your bloody bourgeois, Eponine!"

He was up and was striding away in an instant. Eponine's only chance was walking out the door, and she scampered desperately after him.

"Parnasse! Parnasse, please!" she cried, tugging on his sleeve. "You have to help me. You're my only hope!"

"Why, Eponine?" he demanded, spinning around and catching hold of the tops of her arms. His eyes searched hers. She wasn't sure if he looked desperate or mad. "Why?" he repeated angrily. "So you can run off with your student and pretend that you're better than the rest of us? You think you're so bloody clever, but you're not! You are scum, just like me—just like all of us. No one cares about us and no one cares about you, _except me_! Do you realise that, Eponine! You belong to _me_; I bought you from your father with the blood I shed. Do you know that? So if you think I'm going to help you save this _guy_, you're mad."

"No! Parnasse, you have it all wrong," she said soothingly, her mind racing to work out the best plan of action. "He's not even _my_ friend, _I_ hardly know him. I only want to get him out for Musichetta. She's a friend of mine who looked after me when I needed help. She's a good person and she loves him, so I said I knew someone who could get him out. I told her I knew the most cunning criminal in all of Paris. Plus, she will pay you."

Parnasse's angry features softened at her praise. "I don't want money, Eponine. I want what I'm owed. _I want you_." he said softly.

Eponine's heart sank with resignation. "I know," she whispered.

~X~

Impatience twitched through Enjolras's limbs as he paced fretfully, waiting for Musichetta and Joly to finish. Musichetta clung desperately to Joly's hand through the bars when the time came to leave. Reluctant to be parted from him again, she waited to the very last second before turning and climbing the railings. Enjolras helped her down, and as soon as her feet hit the ground, she turned longingly to stare at the building that housed her beloved. She would have stayed there all night if he had not reminded her that Eponine was waiting for them.

He cast a furtive glance at her now as she strode beside him, her face resolute. He had no doubt that given half a chance she would have scaled the walls of La Concerige and broken into jail if it meant she could be with Joly.

Such a selfless, devoted love was a world away from what he had learnt of such things during his early life. His Grandparents' marriage was cold and money-orientated; his own parents' was selfish, his mother had suffered because his father had not been able to marry the woman he chose.

It had never occurred to him until that moment that it could perhaps be a wonderful thing, as well. He had thought that love was something a sane man did his best to avoid, but now he wondered if that was really true. Love like Musichetta's for Joly was something to be admired and treasured. To love another person more than oneself showed strength of character, not weakness.

He wondered what it would feel like to be as devoted to another person as Marius had been to Cosette, to the exclusion of all he had previously thought important. As he approached the large Cathedral where Eponine was waiting, he wondered how it would feel to be willing to die for someone like she had been for Marius_._ What would it feel like if she had been willing to die for him instead?

His body and mind's sharp reaction to the image unsettled him and he shook it away. He turned to Musichetta.

"We both know the reputation of the Patron-Minette. It would be best if he didn't see you. If you are happy to, I would suggest you wait here whilst I fetch Eponine."

Musichetta nodded, happy to be left alone with her thoughts for the time being. Enjolras proceeded inside.

His eyes began to search the ancient building for Eponine's familiar form. He spotted her quickly, her face patterned by the pink glow from a stained glass window above her. She did not notice his approach, as she was staring intently into the shadows before her. A young man, he assumed Montparnasse, stepped out of the shadow and placed himself barely inches away from her. Enjolras couldn't tell if the action was intimate or intimidating, but either way he hurried in his approach.

"And when this is done?" the dark eyed youth questioned her.

"When this is done, I will leave with you," she replied.

Enjolras stopped dead in his tracks. Had she really just said that? His feet felt suddenly rooted to the floor.

The young man had taken hold of Eponine's wrists. "We will be so happy, 'Ponine. I've wanted this for so long." He bent his head over hers and placed a harsh kiss on her lips. Enjolras felt his stomach plummet when she did not pull away.

"And what about your other friend?" the youth sneered, not releasing his grip on her wrists.

"Enjolras is unimportant. My only interest is in helping Musichetta."

"So you have no qualms with abandoning him?"

Enjolras heart was thundering against his ribs. He held his breath as he waited for her response.

"No. He abandoned me before, when I needed him most. His revolution killed my brother. He is no friend of mine—I hate him."

"Then why did you help him from the barricade?" Montparnasse asked, taking the words straight from Enjolras's mouth.

She rolled her eyes, "He's rich, 'Parnasse. I know what side my bread is buttered on; I'm not a fool. Thought I'd try charming some money out of him, but my allures had no effect."

"You _are_ a bad girl. They have an effect on me," Montparnasse chuckled, wrapping his arms around her.

Ice stabbed through Enjolras's heart and quickly spread its way across his skin. To his consternation, he thought he might be sick. The world which had been so stable when he had entered the Notre Dame suddenly felt as if it had shaken and crumbled around him. Eponine, his secret shelter during his childhood years and again when the barricade had fallen, had been ripped away from him with a force he was not prepared for. _Had everything she had told him been a lie?_

The young couple before him looked about to embrace again. He cleared his throat, preventing the action and drawing their attention to his presence.

Eponine jumped when she saw him; her eyes widened and her face visibly paled. She moved sideways, quickly putting distance between herself and the man beside her. She looked pleadingly at him, but he couldn't stand to look at her, so he turned his attention to the young man at her side.

"This is Montparnasse. He has agreed to help us," she said, noticing who he was focusing on. He could hear the hitch in her voice that she tried to disguise.

"Where is the girl, then?" Montparnasse asked, his arm snaking round Eponine's shoulders. In spite of everything, Enjolras's instinct was still to tell him to stop mauling the girl.

"Musichetta is waiting in the lobby," he replied coolly.

Montparnasse meet Enjolras's assessing gaze with one of his own. Enjolras kept his features in a carefully practised bored expression, not allowing any of the emotions he was feeling to show. He did not glance at Eponine, no matter how tempting it was to see her reaction.

Montparnasse shuffled slightly but didn't drop his gaze. For what seemed like an age, the two young men stood silently sizing each other like two lions waiting to see who pounced first. It was bordering on ridiculous, when finally with a small nod at his blonde adversary, Montparnasse turned to Eponine.

"I will assess the situation and leave instructions for you in the Tavern by the day after tomorrow."

Eponine's face was expressionless as she agreed to the arrangement. It remained unmoving when Montparnasse landed another sloppy kiss on her lips before stalking out of the building, pausing to cast a final scornful glance at Enjolras before leaving.

With a great effort against an inner pain that he did not fully understand, Enjolras finally met Eponine's eyes. She opened her mouth several times as if to speak but no sound came out. All the while, Enjolras stood and said nothing. He could see her discomfort, but he chose to do nothing to lessen it.

"I'm sorry," she finally managed, her voice coming out as a small whisper.

He scoffed and shook his head, turning on his heel to leave. He could hear her quick footsteps rushing up behind him.

"Enjolras, wait."

He stopped.

"You have to understand. I never, _never_ wanted you to hear that. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." The tears filling up her dark eyes tugged at his heart, but he shoved the feeling aside. He had learnt a harsh lesson that evening: giving into emotions, letting people close, only led to pain.

"Don't concern yourself. I am unimportant."

She blinked rapidly as if his words had struck her like a physical blow. He felt suddenly exhausted, his limbs were leaden and his head was throbbing, and he tried to comprehend everything that had happened in the past hour.

"Eponine," he said slowly, "you should have just told me how you felt. You should have just been honest with me."

She cast her eyes to the floor, her fingers twirling the button on the top of her breaches. Her voice came out in a muffled whisper. "That's exactly the problem. I can't."

He let out a long sigh—he had nothing left to say to her. "Musichetta is waiting."

She nodded and trailed behind him as they began to make their way home.


End file.
